Therapy
by pride-and-loyalty
Summary: Percy Jackson knew that drugs couldn't save him from his childhood and the present he created for himself, but nothing else came close. When he has a serious overdose, he's asked to meet with the therapist Annabeth Chase, and she's the first person to listen to him, and to join him on his journey. From her, Percy learns to love and how to see the world. Mortal AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome, reader! Here is the first chapter of my new story! It kind of serves as a prologue, so there isn't exactly a lot of action or movement (with the plot). Please bear through it, because things will start moving faster within the next chapter. Also, quick disclaimer, not everything might be accurate. Please do some of your own research if you need it. Thanks! **

**But, first, I'd like to thank DDaughterofAthena for offering me her plot and waiting for me to write a whole other story before getting here. Much appreciated!**

**And also a huge bouquet of thanks to TotallyNerdy, who beta'd this. Thanks for your patience with me and the technology!**

**Now, enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts of People, Earth, and Life: Green eyes only exist in 2% of the worlds population, and is the most concentrated in Scandinavian countries. It is caused by less of black melanin (a coloring pigment), and more of yellow melanin. In most cases, babies only change to green eyes at around 6 months of age._

Percy felt dead and alive at the same time.

His veins rushed with energy, and an incessant buzzing pressed against his skin. Brightly-hued flares ballooned in his mind, with sparks and glowing cinders flying off. He felt fire crackling in his lungs.

But then, at the same time, his bones felt like they were filled completely with lead. Percy's eyelids were heavy black curtains, boarding up windows for war, and tiredness suffused every inch of his body. He could barely feel any air whispering in and out of him, and Percy wondered dully where his throbbing heartbeat had went. And why all he could see was black.

But suddenly, something was yanking open the door to his consciousness, and Percy could abruptly feel something. With his nerves, not his emotions. His limbs, which he had almost forgotten about, were trembling violently. What were supposed to be his hands was blob of shaking soft blue. His nerves were hurtled back and forth, and his skin was scraping against something rough. Floor… stone… sidewalk? He could not form cohesive thoughts.

Alarm flooded Percy, but his body was no longer connected to him. The cold was spreading across his body, freezing up his skin. Whatever was supposed to be alive was struggling out with his breaths.

With each shudder, grainy, slashed images blurred through his head. He saw a tall girl running around a corner, her tight black braid flying out behind her. A pair of bright new crutches tossed to the ground, and paws trampling over them. Sharp, throwing knives arching their way through the air, jabbing into a corrugated metal wall. Percy, feeling his breaths narrow to gasps, realized these were collages of his memories and strange fantasies. A shiny silver car went crashing into the side of a bridge, the hood crumbling and the cracked doors flinging open. A giant potbelly pig, slowly rose up and down from a narrow bed. Little gritty bits floating in a bowl of clear soup held in front of him with grubby hands. Screaming, in varying altitudes, as a young boy climbed up a wall and as a gray-haired woman reached out and someone ran to a stop at the edge of a field. And then a small boy came running down an empty lot, streetlights flickering above him, as dark shapes coalesced around him and scattered, easily keeping pace.

Pain grappled with him as he shook. The images began to blur, growing large black ink splotches. He was hopelessly struggling to regain hold of himself again when a crash jarred through his system. His mind went blank, and the bright fireworks smoked out. He had one last thought: what? before the darkness ate up the last awake part of him.

-line break-

And then he was a little boy, young, energetic, and pertinaciously struggling to stay awake. Tucked into soft on-sale blue blankets, he stared up at the glowing neon stars on his ceiling, a bright, sloppy mess. They starved off vivid, green light, casting the action figures lined up on his bureau and his mom in shadowy illumination.

"Mommy?" His whisper was loud in the night, belonging to the voice of a carefree little boy. He lazily watched the profile of his mom, because she was the most familiar face to him.

"Yeah?" She bent her head down to watch him, her eyes dark in the night.

"Are you going to stay?" He knew the answer to this, but asked anyway.

"Of course, honey."

He squeezed his eyes shut, but as usual, didn't feel the beckon of tiredness. "I can't sleep yet."

"I know. But it's okay, you will soon."

"Will you still be here?"

"Yes, honey, I won't leave." Her voice was slow, patient.

He turned. Her hair was a greenish-black under the lighting, and dips beneath her cheekbones were soft teal hallows. She looked like the most beautiful alien ever. "Are you going to be gone tomorrow?"

"Only for a little while. I have to go to my job, honey."

"I wish you didn't." He curled up, tangling his covers.

"I do, too. But I'll be back before you know it."

"When is that?"

"Sooner than you think. I'll be back early, actually." She sat a little straighter in her tiny chair, that was meant for him.

"Really?"

"Yeah, for dinner, and I'll have a guest with me."

"Who?" Sleep was on the very back of his mind by now.

She laughed, a loud, infectious sound. "Well, you don't know him. He's my coworker, Gabe Ugliano. He's very nice, and he's my friend, so I hope you'll like him."

"Maybe," he said doubtfully. "What is he like?"

"Oh, well, he's very well-mannered, a gentleman like you are now." Her rough hand squeezed his, so much larger and more calloused, than his. "And he's funny, he treats me well, actually, everyone. Once he bought us all coffee from that new expensive place down the street." She laughed quietly to herself.

Percy chewed his lip. This Gabe didn't sound horrible, but mom's soft laugh made him nervous. "Why is he called 'Ugliano'?"

She laughed again. "It is an unfortunate last name. I don't know why, Percy. He's actually kind of handsome."

He scowled. His mysterious dad, who disappeared when he was young, was supposed to be the handsome one. A sinking feeling dug into his heart. Percy curled up on his side, his green-lit mother disappearing from view. "Okay."

She patted his knee and was silent for a second. "You know, he really likes blue jelly beans too. I'll bring some home for the both of you. But don't worry, you'll still get a full bag. I can't stop spoiling you." She reached for his hand, laughing softly, and squeezed it.

He squeezed back, feeling a bit better. He knew more about this Gabe than he did about is father now. And blue jelly beans were definitely a win for him. "I can't wait to meet him, mom."

"Great." Percy didn't need to turn to see her smiling.

And though he was extra excited with the prospect of getting blue candy and meeting someone new tomorrow, the lull of sleep reached out and captured him, and soon he was in the light, dreamless world of young kids. And his mother sat right next to him, just as she promised.

-line break-

There was an unbeknown awkwardness in his limbs all of a sudden, and an aching hunger clawing at his gut. Dirt was a new, heavier layer of skin on top of him. Percy felt excited, famished tremors when he detected at a faint vegetable-y smell around from the corner. But squeezed all around him were roughened kids, every one larger than him, pulling out pocket knives or other sharp things and resting them on the ground casually. Percy didn't want to pick his way through them to the other side of the dirty alley.

Rough tarps were hoisted over their whole crowd, haphazardly around to cover the weak evening light, and broken crates stacked around them in sloppy piles. Light cut in and out of the crowd, so Percy could only see half of the people around him. Shadows played insouciantly wherever the light did not touch. Percy drew his gaze to the loose ring around him, curtained in dimness, but he could make out their features well enough.

Two scrawny, curly-haired boys of the exact same height were laughing boisterously with each other, rotating shiny things lithely through their hands. On the other side of them was someone almost completely hidden in darkness, except for a few slips of his milky pale skin. Nimble fingers played with a ring on his hand, undisturbed by the other, taller person leaning on him. A streak of light, slipping through the gaps of the tarp, fell on her bored face. She wore the same color as him and had the same glaring skin, but her searching eyes glinted as they fell on people across the gang. And though he sat rigidly, she still managed to be affectionate and curl against him.

Beckendorf and Silena, next to Percy, however, were a lot more affectionate than her, and louder, too. Their limbs tangled together, the gloss from Silena's dark, black hair gleaming over on Beck's broad shoulder. Percy knew for a fact that she didn't get to wash it regularly, but it stayed preternaturally silky and shiny. She was giggling into his rumbling laughs, or they would whisper things in a not-so-secretive tone, and the rare occasion they were quiet, Percy could hear subtle squelchy sounds that made him shudder.

"Stop staring," someone murmured lowly. "It'll make people think you want something like that."

Percy spun, gravel and dirt crunching underneath him. His jaw slackened. He continued staring at Reyna. "Did you just make a joke?"

One corner of her mouth lifted. She said nothing, only continued to clean her knife on a scrap of fabric.

"No, really. Did you actually say something funny?"

"Why would you think it's funny? I was just trying to help you." She tilted her head as she rubbed the cloth extra hard.

He was still too in shock to reply. Percy had honestly thought her incapable of doing anything like that. Ignoring the gurgling from his stomach, he swallowed and said, "Well, for the record, I don't want something like that, and I hope everyone knows it."

Reyna was quiet for a second. She lifted her head, looking away. "Jackson, I don't think these people are busy thinking about you. Just keep yourself alive, and you'll stay high enough in their regard."

He had nothing to say to that. "Well, when can I get some food?" His hunger, impossible to forget, filled his throat, choking him.

"Sooner or later. If you're ready to fight, you can get it sooner." Reyna let a silver of her teeth crack through as she held up her knife.

Percy paled, his hand running to a few scars on his back. He had thought this temporary peaceful respite would mean they got to civilly line up for things. "Don't we fight enough?"

"Never," Michael Yew butted in, sweeping dust their way. "Come on, Prissy, how else would we decide anything?"

Reyna stiffened beside him, but didn't say anything. She hated to be protective.

"You too, Rey-Rey. What about your sister—"

The glare she flashed him caused a half of Percy's face to catch frostbite in the steamy heat. She gripped her knife. "What about you going away?"

He smirked and disappeared into the shadow of a low-hanging tarp.

Percy was also desperately curious about Hylla. They bore such a resemblance, except Hylla was taller and about five times more muscular. Which made her even scarier than Reyna. He didn't dare say a word aloud.

"Let's go find some—"

Reyna was cut off by a piercing siren. All around the alley, people straightened, grabbing their weapons. Fear squeezed Percy's heart, and a cold sweat splattered over his skin. Sirens were everyone's least favorite thing, but they heard them on their tail rather often. A familiarly brawny figure suddenly stood above the crowd. "Run!" Clarisse screamed, jumping down into the flood streaming towards the back of the alley. They never camped in an alley with a dead end. Percy felt frost prod at his gut. Well, they didn't usually.

"No!" Beckendorf yelled, shaking him out of his memories. "Silena is not here with us!" Percy trembled at the panic in his earth-shakingly deep voice.

But Clarisse was gone, and so was half of the people. Percy spotted two curly heads hobbling away already, and the familiar braided crown of Bianca vanishing into the shadows.

A cold grip clamped around his arm, and Reyna was dragging him to Beckendorf's side. "Leave, now. She's a smart girl. She'll know what to do."

Beckendorf's face was caught between doubt and terror. "But what if she gets caught?"

One of the tarps were caught and thrown away, erupting in a cloud of dust and dusky purple light. Reyna's high cheekbones were suddenly brighter, and the line of Beckendorf's wide jaw grew bronzer.

"We need to go." She released his arm, pushing him to face the other direction. "Percy, run ahead."

"What! No!"

"You're a slow runner," Reyna snapped in a low, no-nonsense voice. "Go!"

"No, I will leave with Beck."

The giant, heavyset guy, usually so calm, shuddered in panic. "No, I only need to wait for Silena!" He had to scream over the sirens.

A motorcycle engine, revving, sounded so close to them they all jumped. "Stop running, kids!" A loudspeaker blared. "We can help you!"

Percy shuddered at the words. He had heard them so, so many times in his short life, and not once was he helped. They were out in the almost completely deserted open, and all the police had to do was pull of this last tarp.

"Beckendorf, please." Reyna's voice was strained. Percy wanted to stumble away from his suddenly uncharacteristic friends, but he wouldn't actually leave them in danger.

Beckendorf quieted. "Fine, let's run."

They took off, dashing into the back of the alley, where footsteps still faintly echoed beckoningly. Percy didn't follow. He ran towards the other direction, out from under the last bit of cover. A whiff of burnt stew curled bitterly in his nostrils. Percy emerged into the mass crowd of motorcycles and flashing lights. Fifty armed policemen, it seemed, snapped to attention. Percy's eyes raked through the mass of gathered policemen and equipment, searching the back windows of the idle police cars, the arms of the burliest guards, even the dusty ground. He found no sign of Silena's dancing eyes, shiny black hair, or bright smile.

"Where is she!" He yelled, backing away from the police closing in on him.

"Stop right there, boy. We don't want to hurt you."

"Where is she?" he screamed, running ahead. It was stupid, and he knew he was going to get caught. But for one brief second, he swerved ahead around a motorcycle, and he could see straight into a cloister of policemen, with a young girl standing in the middle.

As strong hands closed around him, he could only catch two things. First, he realized that Silena was standing there, completely of her own accord, not held in place, not even fronted by a threatening man. Second, that once her eyes met Percy's, they filled with screaming fear and she started running towards him, drawing a familiar dagger. It was Clarisse's torture weapon.

When Percy was getting forcibly turned around and walked away, the man crushing his arm suddenly fell away with a groan, and then Silena's shriek cut through the air. The police's pained hisses and whimpers echoed around him and in his mind, but he couldn't hear anything from Silena.

Twisting painfully, he scrambled in the tight grips holding him to see his friend, but he couldn't move, and then he was shoved, and everything dissipated from view.

-line break-

Percy's headache came to him foggily, the throbbing in his head slowly growing clearer and clearer. Thump. He felt taller, stronger. Well-fed. Thump. His throat was as dry as the desert. Thump. His heart wobbled with the erratic beat of some pop song that played in the distance. Thump. In his blurry vision, he could see dim lamps switched on in the room across from him, jumping candles lit on top of corner tables, and a gyrating mass of too-much flesh and nylon party clothes. Everything was in shades of pale fluorescent yellow or muggy black.

Someone stumbled into his shoulder, and continued on drunkenly to the room behind Percy. Something light sloshed into his hand. A red cup that was almost completely drained. Percy downed the rest, feeling it scorch all the way down.

He turned, following the way of the guy who just passed, and had to stop to hold his spinning head. The kitchen, with quaint lace curtains around a small window showing a clear night, was littered with beer cans and half-packaged bottles of illicit liquor and red cups. The tiny beer keg, off to the side, had a disorderly line gathered all around it as a girl with pink pigtails rowdily passed cups to everyone. Percy's throat was growing drier by the second, so he pushed his cup into the crowd and had it handed back to him a few disoriented minutes later, smelling strongly of at least five different types of alcohol.

He held it away from him and stumbled into the other room, with the dancing people. He searched the crowd, the music grating on his eardrums, for either curly hair or a Rasta cap, but he found neither. Not like his friends-despite how different he was from them-really spent time on the dance floor, either.

Percy found a deserted patch of wall and leaned against it heavily, feeling sticky sweat gather underneath his shirt. Girls in freakishly tall heels and slitted dressed passed by, eyeing him suggestively, but he just turned his face, too dizzy to focus on anyone. Where was the light mood alcohol promised? The instant gratification? Percy was starting to feel queasy.

Well, it had come. He was sure, earlier in the night, he was dancing in the middle of the crowd, and danced against a few girls, probably, but time had slipped out from under him and now he didn't remember a single thing. And he had done it while staying conscious the whole time. That was a record.

Because, now, he didn't need to be out of his mind to be lost from the rest of the world, Percy realized. He could be lost from everything all the same in his own head.

Someone bumped his shoulder, hard, startling him from his thoughts. "Percy?!"

A plain, broad face stared into his. Chris' brown eyes wavered slightly. "Why are you just standing there?"

"For no reason."

Chris stuck his hands in his pockets and fidgeted. "Are you okay, Percy?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking. How's Clarisse?" The most he knew about Chris Rodriguez, really, was that somehow Clarisse liked him and he liked her back.

Chris smiled slightly. "Good. Acting like usual."

"Oh." That was the perfect place for him to make fun of his girlfriend for a little bit with him, but he couldn't bring himself to engage with Chris at all.

"Listen." Chris lowered his reproachful voice. He glanced around. "Just take this, please. I need to pass it to someone else. You don't have to get involved afterwards, alright?" His hand, closed, was held out. But before he would offer anything to Percy, he met his eyes and whispered contritely, "I'm sorry for this."

And then, before he could react, something was pushed into his hands and Chris was gone. Percy's brain cranked slowly, the gears unoiled and rusty. He tensed with shock when he realized what the small plastic packages contained. He didn't want to pass them out, he thought at first.

Why? Why not? He didn't have an answer to either of those questions. Some time ago, it might've mattered what these things could possibly do to people. But now, it didn't really. Percy searched the room, singling out people against the walls, or waiting for them to come to him.

It was the night of his first exchange. But he had watched it happen so many times, he knew what to do. How to subtly catch someone's attention, and then hold out his hand just a little, tilting it to obscure the view from everyone else. And how to bargain prices without saying much aloud, and then how to thumb through the money to check that he got the amount he wanted. He acted cool and collected around every client, as one of friends called them, and none of them seemed to doubt him. At least, no more than usual.

But inside, he kept feeling anticipation, like he was waiting for something urgent. Percy wanted himself to feel guilty, to feel trapped, or especially horrible, but he didn't. He just went through the motions, like this was just a job. And wasn't it?

When the music quieted, and people were beginning to rouse the completely passed-out ones, he asked around for Chris. He was pretty famous, from spending some time in the asylum to dating Clarisse, and when they were alone in the backyard, Percy thoughtlessly handed over the cash.

"Here you go. I used all of the packages. It's okay, man, I didn't mind doing it." He tried to assuage Chris, who looked deeply guilty and worried.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't keep them myself."

"No, I get it, I know these things are handed around. Keep all the money."

"Percy, no. I feel bad. I don't have to get straight back to the original source."

Percy shook his head. Chris was a good guy. He didn't need to get caught up in this. "Like you said, it was a one-time thing. I don't need the money. Take care." He patted his shoulder and went through the house to Grover's broken-down Volkswagen.

Juniper was at the front wheel, looking wide-awake and chipper and sober. She was a miracle, especially that she dated Grover, who was already snoring in the back. Percy squeezed in beside the Stolls, plus a few other guys, and leaned his flaming cheek against the glass window as they slowly rolled down the street.

He realized that he did feel something about dealing. He didn't really mind it. And then the moon disappeared from the endless night sky.

-line break-

And then he was back to being young, short and scrawny. Percy was standing in the hallway, right next to the photograph of him and Mom at the beach, clutching his too-big blanket tightly. He watched Mom's closed door, trembling in place. Yelling crackled from inside the room, not even stopping for more than a second for gasping breaths. Crashes echoed down the hallway sporadically, and he flinched every time. Percy could barely pick up low murmuring coming from his mother, and while her slow, soft voice calmed him like it always did, the loud obscenities and threats always chased that feeling away.

He didn't want to imagine what was happening inside. But he hated feeling helpless, standing barefoot in his pajamas. Every time his small hand reached out, the yelling grew louder. Mom had warned him once to not go inside, especially not when they were loud.

He heard a wild scream, and shivers shimmied around his body. His indecision wavered. Fear caused his palms to grow damp as he grabbed the doorknob. He knew how Gabe could get, and he didn't want to face that. But a quick gasp, sounding too polite for someone like Gabe, froze Percy over. Mom. He had to get to her.

Percy shoved the door open, his palms wide out. Swinging in, the door slammed into Gabe's back, and he turned with a low growl. Something burned in his squinty eyes when they caught sight of Percy. Something shrank into a tiny ball inside Percy, but he stared right back. He thought that maybe he had frozen in place from fear, but when Mom said faintly from the corner, "Percy, please leave…", he knew he had to stay.

Gabe lowered his fat face close to Percy's, his eyes glowing almost red, and Mom was reaching out, something dark spreading on her forehead, screaming soundlessly.

And then, though his eyes felt like they were open, he couldn't see anything but darkness.

-line break-

Percy struggled to lift his eyelids. When they opened up a sliver, burning light greeted him from the outside world. Sparks danced as he fought between seeing his surroundings and staying in velvety safeness.

Sight won out, and he pried his eyes open completely. All he could see were long, blinding bars of light, overcasting a speckled, yellow-tinted ceiling. Percy slid his eyes around, trying to see all that he could in his peripheral vision. A bedside table, empty. An orange overstuffed chair with a cracking cover. A small square window next to a framed kindergarten flower drawing. The other side had a tray stacked with metal things. And then the gently rotund middle of some woman in flowery scrubs.

It rose up as a screech grated against his ears. "Mr. Jackson! You're awake!" A few brunette locks fell into sight. "Wow, this is so amazing! Oh, wow. Your eyes are—"

He'd heard this spiel before, and without thinking, tuned out for a bit.

"Can you talk? Hello?" Her voice was just a bit softer when he went back to listening, after realizing she could be offering important information. "Silly me, you weren't in a coma. Sorry. I know, I sound pretty incompetent, but I'm just excited. I've been monitoring you all night."

Percy almost sat up. How was he out for so long? How much did he take?

"—and Doc would come once in a while and be like, 'Marina, are his vitals improving?' and I would say, 'It's really hard to tell' even when you were getting better because honestly I liked having you around and I'm just used to—"

"Marina," he interrupted, putting on a smile. Her voice stopped, stunned. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I want to know how I am."

"Oh, you're great! Solid temperature, blood pressure is fine, your heart is beating well now, and you have regular sleep with extra REM, have you been dreaming a lot? More deep sleep than extra, but Doc put you out. Speaking of," her voice turned into something along the lines of stern, "Your body took quite a while to purge you of illegal substances. You're doing alright, now, but your body is already showing signs of discomfort. You've been visiting the ER way too often, mister. An attorney, Ms. Wickerstein, is coming later to discuss rehab and court, and I really believe that could be good for you."

Court? Percy straightened underneath his dingy sheet, his sleepy brain grasping at straws. He thought paramedics wouldn't call the cops. At least an ambulance found him, or he would be a jail cell right now. "Thank you, Marina," he said, feigning a smile, but his heart was racing like he ran a hundred miles. "I have to ask, did I get any visitors?"

She giggled. "Oh, I know what you mean." Neither of them was on the same page, but Percy had to play along. He'd been through this whole process a few times already, though he'd never been stuck inside the hospital for so long, but that just meant this doctor wanted to do something about this and he needed to get out. Silena always said he could be sweet if he wanted to. He knew some of his friends hated manipulation, probably most of them, grasping around the law, using people for whatever intents and purposes, he but he didn't think about it too much anymore. Just going through the motions to get somewhere, he told himself.

"Yeah, I apologize, sometimes my friends can be rather-"

"—drunk?" The nurse laughed. "We had to ask the loudest one to leave, sorry. He was getting a little loud."

From this description, Percy was still unable to tell who visited him. "Oh, I'm the one who's sorry. Some of my friends, well, have histories of pulling stunts."

"Oh no, most of them were pretty behaved." This must've been an imposing hospital. "Just that one young man, Dakota something."

Dakota! He had a lead. "I hoped my friends helped him quiet down."

"Yes, actually, this one girl looked like she was about to kick him out without our help."

Percy's throat felt dry. "Is she tall, olive-skinned?"

"Yes!" Marina clapped her hands. "She kept asking after you, though she gave up her visiting hours. And she talked a lot with Ms. Wickerstein."

"Oh, really?" he asked distantly. Inside, he was too distracted with mulling over things to pay attention to her anymore. Reyna had come to find him? The last time he was hospitalized, she had helped him too. But that was quite some time ago. Percy breathed slowly, feeling regret trickle out, one vicious drop at a time. If she did come, she would be up to her elbows again in his legal affairs, which she hated, but she was good at it. She looked like a lawyer already, and everyone agreed to her.

"And she's real pretty, too." Marina's buddy-buddy voice cut into his thoughts. "She cares about you a lot, you know." Percy could hear Marina winking hard. Wincing, he shifted his neck to look straight at her, and sure enough, she was.

"You're lucky to get her as a girlfriend, Mr. Jackson."

He stared at her, agape. "Me? And Reyna? What?"

Marina blinked. "Oh, I thought you two were—"

"We're not," he answered flatly. The thought made him grow sadder. Not because Reyna was horrible or anything, but because he found it impossible to feel like that anymore.

"She seems to like you, though."

"Please stop." He turned back to face the ceiling. "Can you ask if anyone is waiting to see me?"

"Yes, of course." She scuttled out.

Reyna really managed everything, Grover told him later that day. She wouldn't say what she did, though. And she never spoke to him (like usual), or even wanted to see him after his newest encounter with death. She only informed Grover that Percy should be out by the next day, 7 pm.

So, at 6:40, he shuffled into the lobby, holding his meager things. He went to the front desk and handed over all his files and paperwork. The balding man scanning his papers kept peering up at him over the tortoiseshell rim of his glasses while Percy slouched against the marble counter. Despite being in bed for a week, he was exhausted.

Once he was handed back another stack of papers, he shoved them into his bag and headed to the front doors. Percy stared out at the thick flurry of snow disgruntledly. He didn't even have a good coat. And then someone called, "Perseus Jackson?"

Percy flinched. Quickly straightening, he spun around. Staring right at him was a vaguely familiar brunette with vivid green eyes, perched on one of the short leather armchairs in the across lobby. She waved him over. Percy, only at her insistence, took a seat, sitting as far away from her as possible. "Yes?"

"Hi, I'm Miranda Gardener. Sorry to bother you, Perseus. I don't make a habit of this, but I peeked at your medical file when I accidently went inside your room." She held up a pleading hand. Her eyes crinkled a little like she was going to share something. "Please forgive me, but my sister Katie went into labor earlier this morning, and she was the same door number as you, but with a different letter. It was a different hallway. Anyway, I mean to say that I saw this is your third overdose." She leaned in, piercing him with her grass-colored eyes. "Third recorded overdose."

Percy could guess where this conversation was going. Swallowing, he looked away from her before pressing as much genuineness into his voice as possible. "I'm know, Miranda. I've made some bad choices in the past, and they've destroyed my life. I'm not going to repeat them anymore."

She studied him closely. Miranda clearly saw right through his monotone. "Percy, I don't mean to offer any help for your drug habit. You get to choose what you use. But I can't let you get away with staying in a mundane—dare I say empty—life by yourself."

Percy sat back. She was sharper than he thought. "How are you going to keep me from that?" His voice straddled the line between sassy and curious.

"I'm going to politely ask you something." Her eyes twinkled a little at his defiance. "Despite not being much of a talker, at first glance, would you let someone to just listen to you?"

Miranda softened her tone as he went silent. "I have this friend who listens to everyone. To whoever's sitting next to her on the subway, to little kindergarteners that crossed the street with her, to the barista who's trying to make her coffee. She's a big talker, actually, but she finds her own purpose by listening to people."

Percy could, again, guess where this was going.

"I think she'll want to meet you, Perseus. I think she'll accept phone calls from you at the crack of dawn if you'll ever need to talk to someone outside of your life. There's nothing you need to mention to her, not your drugs, your job, anything. Just say whatever you want to say." Miranda stared back at him intently. He wanted to shield away, but he didn't. His curiosity about her friend glued in him place. Percy felt a sudden, hot spark of fear alongside the feeling of waves churning inside of him, low and stormy.

"I'll ask you now. Can you talk to her?"

The frothy waters splashed violently, ricocheting around the too-small space. He sat perfectly still as the waves surged, charging into a hurricane. Every glassy peak rushing up and crashing shook him. Percy was discreetly shuddering as a hole surfaced in the aggressive storm. He knew what was inside, and fear scalded his sternum.

Miranda was quiet now, holding out a crisp card. She was right; it didn't read her own name on it. Percy took it carefully and stood. He nodded slightly, avoiding her gaze, and then numbly headed to the sliding doors. They parted with a low whir, but Percy paused in his slumped steps. Lowering his head, he peered at the card in his palm.

It was a thick, speckled piece of paper. Small, curling, almost archaic decorations ran down the sides. A simple font, in a short list, read:

Half-Blood Hill Co.

CEO and Top Therapist

Annabeth Chase

The address and telephone numbers formed a neat border on the bottom. On the back, he discovered that it was made of recycled paper, specifically: (from old tests and assignments).

Tucking the card into his jacket pocket, he stepped outside the waiting doors. A flurry of flakes fell onto him. Percy crossed the powdered sugar-dusted parking lot. The waves inside him were falling back, back into frenetic stirring, now that he had glimpsed the one peaceful spot in the storm. It was growing larger and larger, but he didn't bother to stop it.

"Annabeth Chase," Percy breathed into the cold air, testing out her name. It sounded a little bit like hope.

**That's it, thanks for reading! The chapters afterwards should be longer, but not excessively slow. You guys should expect it within a week. So, what did you think? Please review if you have any comments or advice.**

**Au revior,**

**Pride-and-loyalty**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back again, and this is mostly rewritten. Some stuff will be repeated, I know, boring. But bear with me. **

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: In Italy, where the cappuccino is from, one can order a "marocchino," which is a combination between an expresso and a cappuccino. However, it cannot be ordered after 11 AM, since it is seen as a breakfast drink in the boot-shaped country. And, a cappuccino is actually a semi-healthy drink, as it supplies nutrients and pushes away hunger pangs and is only 70-80 calories without sugar._

When Percy woke up, it was dark. In the world, in the room, in his mind. He laid completely still on his cot. Not for the first time, he wondered if he didn't get up, would anything ever change.

Maybe some very little things. Pike would throw a tantrum that his brainless drone no.1 was no longer there to stock shelves and hire some other newbie off the street. Grover would probably be sad for a little bit, and then eventually propose to Juniper and get carried off in newly wedded bliss. Oh, and all the way in California, Reyna would probably mutter, "Good riddance." And then the landlord would kick him back out onto the street and someone else would gag at the cigarette smell weaved into the scratchy polyester.

The flow kept slipping forward. His clients would have to find a new dealer. Maybe they would get caught by some amateur. Whatever, they never liked him anyway. Travis and Connor would plunder his things and find nothing and be disappointed for maybe two seconds. Nico wouldn't even spare more than that time for thinking about him anymore.

His neck was growing stiff, and he rolled over slightly, feeling all his bones creak against the icy floor. A tiny slit of light was peeping through the dust-caked windowpane. Suddenly his memory raced to life, and his sea was working its way into a low tide. He had the meeting today. The meeting with the Top Therapist/CEO Annabeth Minerva Chase. The seawater swirled, speeding up.

It was so strange, how hope could randomly sneak up sometimes and tap someone on their shoulder.

His thoughts streamed away. Just thinking about it was wracking up his nerves and charging his ocean. He was almost shaking under his holey blanket with his surging emotions. It was the crack of dawn, and his fingers itched for the long slender handle of a spoon. But, not today.

Percy struggled with his anxiety and excitement all morning. He sprang out of his cot and dashed down the stubby fifteen flights of stairs, and dodged the crowds of people without seeing any of their faces, and on the subway he was slumped over, trying to shove down his storm. When Percy was face-to-face with the smooth glass façade of Half-Blood Hill, it was hard not to explode.

His fear was winning out. He'd never met her, and yet he was eerily hopeful. What if she was the worst, dullest person ever? Or what if she was exactly what he wished for? That was making him _erringly _excited and afraid. As he pushed open the heavy glass door, he felt another nauseating rush of panic push through him.

Half-Blood Hill was eminently not what he expected. There was a pristine, simple lobby, dominated by a huge pine tree stretching through the ceiling. The whole place smelled woodsy and syrup-tinted. There was a lengthy reception desk to the wall, where a guy in a wheelchair looked up from his laptop and immediately waved and smiled. Before either of them could try to react, a younger girl in a glitter-smeared shirt appeared at his elbow. "Are you here for Annabeth?"

Wariness shot through him, along with a heady wave of fear. Percy blinked, his vision blurring. "Yes." He nodded.

The girl beamed. "Great. I'm Lou Ellen, I work as one of the assistants around here. She's on the top floor." She turned halfway and motioned for him to follow. Lou Ellen was clearly skilled at walking from an angle and made small talk about her job that he barely listened to. They went down a hallway and headed to a hanging spiral staircase showered in sunlight. He looked up and saw a round glass window, a long way up. His ocean heaved once.

Lou Ellen was quiet as she deftly limbered up the stairs, but deliberately slowing her pace to match his prodding, with careful glances back to him. At each landing, she would gesture a little at the floor, but all of the amber-toned conference rooms and snug two-chaired cubicles swam before his eyes. He could only look up, towards the glass window and the top floor. They made it up easily, as the suspended stone steps were a lot less crumbled than his apartment building's, and then they were on the tiny strip of carpeted landing on the top. If he reached over, Percy could probably brush the circular window with his fingers.

Lou Ellen pointed to the small door in the center of the hallway, cocking her head. She didn't have to explain anything now. Percy's heart thrashed inside his chest and his gut now held a violent hurricane. This was it.

Ever so slowly, he reached up and knocked. There was a soft, brief padding of footsteps and then the door was sliding back and he was face-to-face with Annabeth Minerva Chase.

She was beautiful and athletic and happy. But what stole him were her eyes, like the sky clearing of rainclouds. They were just eyes, with round pupils and a perfect disk of color, but they seemed to be actually smiling at him, in a completely different way from her curved full lips. She looked absolutely thrilled to be in front of him.

Percy felt his emotions thrash together and rain down in a blurry torrent. In front of her, he never felt more broken, more hopeful, more scared, more lost, more despairing, and more eager at the same time. What was it in her? Percy was already starting to be honest to himself. In front of her, but before even seeing her, and for almost no reason, he was completely ready to lay bare his broken, shattered heart and ask how he could fix it. And that was as unnerving as it was exciting, somehow.

"Hello, Perseus Jackson. I'm Annabeth. Would you like to come in?" She lithely stepped out of from doorway, and after a belated beat, Percy crossed inside. Lou Ellen gave him a confident thumbs-up before Annabeth waved at her and she disappeared. Percy realized the door was still open a slit behind him, and a weight suddenly settled inside him.

"Okay, Perseus, welcome to my office." It was so much smaller than he expected, and brighter. Three walls were a creamy cement gray, but the far wall was just a heavy pane of glass, showering them in winter light. The whole place smelled like coffee and sun-warmed beach towels. The smooth floor was tiled with millions of different shades of wood, and there was a spread of natural landscapes he'd hardly seen before framed up on the walls. Whenever a few brief icy breezes danced in, a tiny row of glass sculptures on a thick desk made out of a tree trunk danced and sang in tinny rings. Standing rather out of place in the corner was a monstrous chunk of industrial metal, nestled in tea bags and decorative mugs. "I am kind of a neat freak. And I love coffee," Annabeth commented, grinning crookedly. "Take a seat?"

Percy sank into a heavily padded armchair across the trunk-table. Annabeth settled into her giant gray pillow with a hum of contentment, and then leaned forward. Percy felt a shiver race down his spine. He was in for it.

"Perseus, hi. So I was—"

His mouth suddenly opened by itself. "Percy."

Annabeth blinked, thrown, but her smiling eyes didn't falter. "Yeah?"

"Call me Percy."

Her mouth smoothed into an even curl. "Of course. I like that. Thanks, Percy." She patiently waited for his nod, and then raced ahead again. "I want to know why you've decided to come here." Her tone was bold and gentle somehow together, and her eyes stayed placidly on his.

"Um," his heart was thudding, and his tongue was heavy, "Someone named Miranda…something invited me here." His ocean crashed in embarrassment and annoyance. Why couldn't he have said something more? Bracing himself for disappointment, he glanced up at her eyes. They were suddenly a softer gray, more inquisitive. And then Annabeth had a golden eyebrow raised in amused doubt.

"Oh, well, she's my friend, and she likes going out and stealing my job. Why did you accept her invitation, then?" She pressed, intently watching him.

Percy bit his lip, either to hold his laugh in and because of his nervousness. He took a deep breath and let the words spill out. "I don't know, I'd like to be heard. And I'm stupidly expecting that maybe I could possibly feel better." Percy let out a shuddering breath and felt his shoulders sink. There it was. He said it incredibly inadequately, but that was some fraction of his deepest thoughts.

Annabeth let her smile sink like the setting sun. Her eyes glimmered. "Sure, Percy. Okay." She let herself sit there for a second, breathing quietly. "Then what are we going to do? Can we meet up often?"

"Yeah, sure."

She cocked her head, smiling crookedly. "Every other day?"

Something jumped in his stomach. "Um, okay. Maybe?"

Annabeth shook her head. "It's fine, we don't have to do it every time. And I'll only try to take two hours of your time, is that okay?"

Percy didn't want to admit he found it perfectly fine and also completely nerve-wracking. "Yeah," he answered. Annabeth's face lit up.

"Alright, before we start anything, pick a mug." She gestured to her side table. She had two sets of seven-days-a-week mugs perched on racks. One was a slow ombre of gray tones, and the other one had popping geometric shapes. From Annabeth's oversized gray sweater, her gray pillow, and the color of her walls, Percy pointed to a bright azure mug with overlapping kites. Annabeth nodded, studying it, and she grabbed that and a gunmetal cup down. Smoothly kneeling down, Annabeth hefted a cold-fogged pitcher from her minifridge. She held it out to Percy, and he saw pink lemon slices and little yellow-trailing seeds floating around in icy clear water with specks of mint. "I put in grapefruit, passion fruit, and some mint from my miniature garden outside. Would you like to try some of this, or plain water?" She waved his mug between her sink to the thick-set pitcher.

Annabeth was so easy to please. "I would like that, thanks." Turning could only hide some of her smile as she poured into the cups, little drops dancing away onto the table and her concentrated face. And then, once she straightened from her fridge, she flushed. "Oh right, it's a little too cold to drink these right now. Can we let them sit?"

"Uh, okay." He blinked at how composed she still seemed, and how she had any concern for that kind of thing.

"Great." She sat in front of him and laid her hands flat on the table. "Percy, what happened to you?"

He closed his eyes for a second. Whenever people asked him that, it was always about how he changed for the worse. Nico asked him once, Percy,_ WHAT _happened to you? Reyna did too, the night before she got onto her plane for San Francisco. He knew that Annabeth now was asking for a terribly tragic life story. She did not know what worse was, or what he was before. But, well, Percy could not give her that kind of story.

Percy cleared his throat. "My father wasn't there because he died when I was young. My mother and I lived together pretty well until she started dating this guy when I was five. His name was Gabe Ugliano. He started out as a gentleman, and then he and my mother got married. Throughout elementary school, he was horrible. Even as a kid, I could figure out that he was hurting my mother. But, I-I didn't do anything." Percy glared at his lap. "Only when I was getting through fifth grade did I open their bedroom door when I heard a loud sound. He had just hit my mother. I finally tried to do something, after all those years, and then he hit me down and pushed my mother to the floor. Her head started… bleeding." It was so painful, to feel empty and scared and angry in front of someone else. He felt like he would burst, holding his breath to wait for her disappointment or pity.

"I know Gabe went to jail. I was sent to foster homes, and my grades sucked and I couldn't sit still. One day I just ran. My mother was not rich, I thought knew the streets. I lived by myself by Dumpster diving until I almost starved. And then this giant muscly guy and a pale kid found me and took me to their people. They became my people." Percy choked at the burning behind his eyes. "But I never repaid them. That guy's girlfriend, the person he loved the most in the world, died because of me. And then, though I could've saved him, he died too. It wasn't just being on the streets. That kid was my friend. He trusted his sister with me, and I got her killed too." He stopped, waiting for Annabeth to do something. Tell him to leave. Call 911. Glare at him with the force of two suns. But she was still perfectly quiet, waiting. "And then I betrayed my best friend by telling myself I was in love with someone else." He swallowed. "I got involved in the dealing drugs business. At least I had a living. Word going around is that dealers don't use, but I fell for it. I don't have a living now."

_I don't have a life now._

He slowly looked up. The sun had skimmed behind a cloud, and everything was in a dim, clear focus. Annabeth's face was turned down, studying the rings on her desk. After one breathless moment, her eyes snapped onto his eyes. They were bright, fiery, ready. "Percy, you can do _anything, _and I'll still listen to you_. _Thanks for speaking."She nodded, her eyes soft. Percy realized the reason her eyes were so bright might be water gathering under her pale eyelashes.

"Do you feel better, talking?"

He looked away. "Sort of."

A brisk laugh fell from Annabeth. "Good. I can't wait to see you again. Here's my contact information." She passed a larger piece of paper, the same quality as her business card, to him. "When you've picked a time to meet, tell me. My office is open from 6 to 9. But you can just talk to me whenever. That's from 12 AM to 11:59 PM."

He folded it away in his pocket, right next to her well-smoothed card. "Okay." He didn't doubt that, but he hoped he didn't need to call her.

"Yeah, really. I mean it. And, Percy?"

He glanced up quickly at her easy grin.

"Is there a kind of coffee you like?"

Percy swallowed.

"Blue, if possible."

She laughed, her eyes widening. "Well, sure."

**Okay, I'm done, hope that was better. Thanks for the wait. **

**Replies:**

**TheBeautifulAndDamned: Hi again! Thank you so much! I'll try not to be as slow.**

**Life-amIright: Hey, thanks so much! I hoped it would be good. Here's the first incredibly late update.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, please go back and reread chapter two, since I rewrote it and the sequence of events is slightly different now… Thanks!**

**And, as always, I want to thank my wonderful beta reader TotallyNerdy for putting up with me. **

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: Poppies, a common flower that can be grown in gardens, has one species named the Oriental poppy that can grow up to four feet tall. They are also, if red and worn on the lapel, considered to be a sign of remembrance and support to the British Armed Forces._

"Shh, just wait," his mother would say to him. "The pain only lasts a moment."

He could remember the antiseptic smell around him and the sticky sludge of lollipops out melting from a jar, and the way the fluorescent lights haloed around her dark hair, framing every dark flyaway strand.

He used to love how she told it straight to him and never murmured soothingly, "Oh, it's going to be okay, it's going to be over…" Percy could trust her with everything.

But she never told him that the pain of missing her would last forever.

Percy trudged along the damp, icy sidewalk, watching the worn toes of his shoes. He knew exactly when to stop at his apartment building. It was the last place he wanted to be, but he always found himself going back there.

A wintry breeze pushed through his threadbare Freidman's Grocery uniform. He used to change out of it immediately when he got to Grover's place. He didn't want to look like one of those downtrodden factory workers. But really, what did it matter that he was wearing a ratty blue jumpsuit at this hour of night?

His stomach rumbled slightly as he turned a corner, following the cul-de-sac with the edge of his vision. He barely had any dinner with Grover. Without his half of money, they could only afford a couple of slices from the horrible diner down the street. When they chewed on those greasy cardboard chunks, all he could do was feel Grover's heavy, sorrowful gaze on him. His dinner hardly sat well.

And then he was shoving in the clunky door, and limbering up the many steps, skipping cracked ones and hopping three-by-three, and then their scratched green, heavily locked door was before him. He sighed and knocked frenetically, pounding against all the noise inside. When the door finally pulled open, he didn't see anyone.

"Hello, Percy," someone said quietly. Percy's head shot down to little Harvey, ducking behind the doorway. "Welcome back."

Every time he saw that small curly head, acid bubbled in his throat. He nodded a little and looked away. His apartment was much larger than Grover's, but it fit five grown men—and Harvey. It wasn't the worst, though, in the neighborhood.

The living room, which hid his cot behind an awkward inward-jutting wall, was filled with smoke and the smell of sweat, though it was no better than the air outside in the stairwell. Percy went methodically through all the locks and stole away to his own place without a word to anyone. Other than Chris over by the kitchen, he knew none of these people, and he was hardly close with Chris either.

Without anything else to do, Percy curled up under his ancient, moth-eaten blanket and tried to breathe something else from his pillow than misery. But he couldn't find it.

Another startlingly clear memory flashed before him, all of a sudden. The glow-in-the-dark stars on his old ceiling. The saleslady was surprised when his mom pointed to the heavy-duty ones that would spark up an entire room, but his mother didn't hesitate. "She doesn't know what it's like to…" Her words faded away. Percy didn't remember what she said next. He knew the gist of what she was going to say, but with whatever words he tried to piece up her speech with, they sounded horrible and wrong. He couldn't even recall her voice anymore, so trying to replace it in his head no longer worked. _What it's like to wake you up? _Or _what it's like to get you up in the morning? _

He felt himself shudder once against the hard, cold floor. His sleepy ocean, drained from the storm of whatever nightmare he had, crashed against the walls of his stomach again. He shook once more subconsciously, and a low, familiar ticking, like the reminder of an activated bomb, began in his mind. Percy sighed aloud.

He first battled with his exhaustion. It was probably the bare hours of the next morning. Yes, he had trouble falling asleep almost all the time, but now it was the blackout exhaustion that could steal him away in a second. He blinked away the dots in his vision, and then, miraculously it disappeared.

And then it was desperation that trickled into his mind. A long, long time ago, he promised Reyna. He promised her that he would watch out for himself. But she hated him still, so where would the good in that be?

Before long, his guilty conscience was creeping out from the dark corners of the room, whispering that he would be even more horrible and worthless than before. But his ticking only grew louder.

He still couldn't get up, though. There was something nagging at him. Something that started with Annabeth. She seemed to believe in him, for some reason. Was he supposed to confirm that?

It was impossible, and she wouldn't be able to understand him, something whispered back. And she won't take any of this away.

The ticking roared in his ears, and his waters thundered. Percy slowly clambered to his feet. He clutched at coats around him and shoved his feet into his worn, holey shoes. Crossing the barrage of sleeping bodies on cots, he opened the door to feel the stairwell temperature drop by multiple degrees. The gathering of so many hostile, broke guys emanated heat into the icy night.

Percy let his feet take him down the stairs and into the ash-flecked street. His body knew where to go and carried him through the trash-choked alleys, around the dangerously slanted apartment buildings, and through randomly thrown plots of cement. There it was, that back door to the empty building, and then that perfectly smooth brass handle his fingers curled around like home. It didn't open, but when he gently shoved it in there was a low click and someone pulled it back. He stumbled in without looking into the doorway.

There was a single sputtering candle in the corner. He couldn't see a thing. He waited for a finger to brush his arm, and then he held out his hand with cash gripped in it. They still had the greasy smell of the grocery he worked at. It disappeared and at the same time, something round and smooth and hard slipped into his grip. His body sagged in relief, but the countdown had conquered all of his senses until all he could do was hear _tick tick tick _and taste his anticipation like burning spice on his tongue. Percy was then ushered out the room, the door silently shutting behind him. For the entire walk back he was completely numb except for the prick of the ticking. With a gasped breath, he was back into the pungent, dark cave of his roommates he never looked at, and then his hands moved swiftly, and he stopped realizing anything but his fluid movements. Slide, went his sleeve. Probe, his finger felt his vein on the underside of his arm. _Prick_.

His ocean was the first to go, evaporating into fine droplets before disappearing against the torrent of his happiness. It hugged him tightly, tossed him into the air like the strong-armed father he never had, and it danced and pulsated inside him until all his memory and pain and guilt was shaken out and he could _breathe _all of a sudden. It drummed giddy tears to his eyes, rushed his blood through his body, took him to a new world where everyone was alive and well and still loved him.

He never tasted anything as sweet.

-line break-

The sun streamed into her office in cutting, dusty lanes that poured across Annabeth. She seemed extra bright. Her blond hair was half up in a bun, half spilling over her shoulders in flashing waves, and her smile almost outweighed her buttery yellow cardigan. It was that gaze, careful and inquisitive, that finally made him wince away.

He eventually slipped into sleep, that night, but he kept waking up in fits and starts, violently scratching himself over and feeling himself drain of all he longed for in disgusting body fluids, but eventually he couldn't go back to sleep when a text from Annabeth buzzed next to his pillow. He didn't want to come, because she'd never seen him like this. He had a pretty good pattern, use in the mornings they didn't meet, and save it for the evenings when they did. Yesterday, he woke up late, and he could tell from the cacophony of honking no car would make way for pedestrians that morning, so he missed his regular shoot-up in order to get to work before the drivers were slamming into people on purpose.

Her eyes now watched his heavy steps and the way he slowly lowered himself into the chair and let his arms sink onto her smooth tabletop. She cocked her head, lightly, at him, but Percy dragged his eyes away and slowly Annabeth relented.

"Well, good morning, Percy. I'm happy to see you again. So…before we get started…" Excitement slipped into her tinny voice. For a moment, it was difficult to piece together the Annabeth perched before him and the one standing by her side table, with pink straps peeking out from the collar of her giant bright sweater. Slowly, oxygen struggled into his mind, and he could make sense of her tan hands grabbing mugs, switching the machine on, flipping through her packs of sugar.

Percy just sat there and watched those long fingers wrap around a small jug from the fridge and twitch controls on her huge coffee machine. "I admit, I've been trying this out way too many times the past day, and before you got here." Annabeth half-tilted her head to face him, the sunlight ringing on the dark gray glow of her outer iris. She nodded towards the mugs in the sink and a shiny-damp one dripping from a hook. "I never overestimate these things, usually, but I've tried five different styles of blue coffee already. I really liked the challenge." A smile cupped her face. "Anyway, I settled on this one." She poured the contents of the jug into the steaming cup, and stuck a glass stirrer inside. With a few expert flicks of her wrist, raining down sugar, she brought the inky-blue mug in front of Percy. Then she sat back and folded her hands, beaming so eagerly, like a little kid waiting for their turn to open gifts. Just before Percy peered inside, he realized she didn't even make a cup for herself.

His lips opened slightly by themselves. Muddled in his vision, there was a painting swirled with cream and sky-blue, flecked across with spots of cocoa powder, and carefully traced in the middle by even lines of foam, was a big "h."

Annabeth's laugh burbled out. "I know, it's really weird. I was thinking, every time we see each other I'll give you a letter, and you'll be able to piece together words and sentences. This one is pretty easy to guess, right?"

He nodded slowly, his head still bowed to his cup. With the fogginess in his mind and the aching in limbs, he had no idea what he was agreeing to. Percy had not seen blue in his food for a long time. His fingers trembling against the warm ceramic, he lifted the cup to his lips. The sweet, rich drink shot heat through him, jolting him awake. For a second, as the foam came in to the shore of his lips and the bitterness touched his tongue, he felt a little better. But then his head was pulsing and his mug shook in his grip.

Annabeth's finger skimmed his, as briefly as possible, as she gently lifted the cup out from his hands. "How are you doing, Percy? Actually?"

He wanted to put his head on the sun-heated table. Pike wouldn't let him off his watch earlier, and now all he wanted to do was sleep. Maybe then he would finally have a clear mind.

"I don't know," he answered.

She nodded. "I'm still listening," she said in her gentle, pushy way.

The words were forced from him, the only thing that could come to mind. "I'm so tired."

Annabeth lowered her head to the table, her eyes pining onto his. "Percy, do you want to sleep now? We have a couch here."

She somehow seemed serious. "I don't know," he repeated. Oh yes, he wanted to.

Annabeth shook her head. "I think you do. Well, come on, it's not far." She pushed out of her chair, and all he could see of her was her torso before she disappeared from view. But soon enough he felt her heat pulsing off her skin, running onto his, and he forced himself to get up. Still standing close, Annabeth led the way out of her office. They got to the stairs, and Annabeth slowed to a stop. "Before we get there, you need to tell me why."

Percy blinked at her, at the tan curve of her cheek, at the wisps of hair tucked behind her ears. She was watching him with utmost seriousness. He didn't think she would be doing this kind of thing to him.

He breathed slowly. "Couldn't sleep very well last night."

Annabeth's poker face didn't move. "Insomnia, Percy?"

He nodded.

Annabeth shook her head. "Are you restless at night? Or are you caught up with thinking about something?"

He bit his lip and struggled. Her eyes flashed metal gray. Like prison bars.

She tilted her head again. "Would you like to tell me what's happening?"

He slowly debated this. She would probably push him if he said no. Here she was, holding him against her promise of sleep. And, whatever. If he told her everything it wouldn't hurt him. She promised not to interfere with him. And maybe if he talked and talked and talked that would fill something up at least.

Percy leaned against the wall. "Um, I headed home pretty late. I was watching TV with my best friend. And then, uh, I used. For the first time in a while."

The last sentence tasted sour in his mouth. Annabeth's eyes glimmered, but she didn't say anything. "Oh. I see. How are you holding up?"

"Fine. Just drained."

She nodded. "Yeah, I'll take you to go to sleep." Her sneaker slid onto the staircase. "Do you have something after this?"

Percy couldn't remember if he was having an extra shift or not. He shrugged, stumbling onto the staircase after her. She stood in his way and pointed to the rail. Percy gripped it as he wobbled his way down. Annabeth appeared to be ignoring his sloppy movements, but she didn't say anything. Finally, down one floor, she got off. They headed down a window-filled hallway, with murmuring spilling past doors, and at the third door Annabeth headed inside. There was a tiny whitewashed space with an armchair and another doorway. The room behind was curtained and dim, rose-colored, with a heavily stuffed couch in the middle. Annabeth headed to a closet on the side, with pieces of mirror stuck onto the door, and without even pausing at her reflection, she hefted out a thick blanket.

"Get comfy," she ordered him. "Your shoes can go under the table, if you want to change into those pjs I can leave the room."

He shook his head and sank into the couch. It was awkward, though, laying down and spreading himself out. He pulled his legs away from the edge so she could leave the blanket there. "Thank you," he mumbled.

But then Annabeth was leaning over him, her hair brushing his chest, as she draped the flowery blanket over him. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration as she tucked it around him, and then she even smoothed a hand over it to pull out the wrinkles when she was done. He shivered a little underneath, his skin tingling all of a sudden. But he closed his eyes and tried not to think of bright green eyes and dark braids. Percy welcomed his blackout exhaustion.

Annabeth straightened, finally satisfied. "Wait." She went to a kettle on the painted table and poured him in a tall cup. She seemed to have this stuff everywhere. "Chamomile. It'll help you sleep better." Plunking it by his head, she kneeled and expectantly watched him.

Sighing, he scrambled to get himself upright and sipped. She stayed close by, her eyes clear and unrelenting, until he finished. His body shook a little as the bitter tea streamed in.

"Alright, I'll leave you now." She stood, her eyes crinkling slightly. "Sorry for pushing you around, I'm done. I'm staying outside. I'll wake you up if it gets too late, okay?"

He nodded barely.

She headed to the door. The light outside had grown dimmer. "Sleep well, insomniac."

The door closed silently behind her, and he was left in a room with light peeping out from behind the fringed curtains, and with a faint smell of lemons in the air.

He crashed straight into sleep, letting coffee, fake doorknobs, and Annabeth waft away from his mind.

**Okay, that's it, thanks for reading and waiting. New chapter will be out within the week. I'm forcing myself to. At least on Sunday. **

**Au revior,**

**Pride-and-loyalty**


	4. Chapter 4

**First time, writing two days in a row for this. Ha! But honestly, I'm pretty free right now and I should be making up for the weeks upon weeks of silence. So yeah, here goes.**

**And again, a million more thanks to TotallyNerdy, who was kind enough to make me start writing again, and to deal with all my mistakes.**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: Living alone does not necessarily have a connection to feeling alone. _

Sleep came and fled easily. Percy woke to choking on lack of air from being smothered by how thick the blanket was, to burning itchiness spreading across his skin again like wildfire, and then, finally, an irrepressible need to pee.

Blearily prying his eyes open, he squinted into a faded, dim room and tried to remember for a second where he was. Oh right, at Half-Blood Hill Co., where they randomly stored couches in decorated rooms. Despite the heaviness of his limbs, sinking down into the cushions, his bladder beckoned. Percy fumbled around the somehow warm ground for his shoes and tripped his way to the door. As he jiggled with the doorknob, he heard flurried steps, smacking plastic keys and fluttering pages. Once he managed to get it open, Percy peered into the tiny space between the hallway and his room. Annabeth was standing next to an armchair with a thick book lying on the seat, fiddling with the lamp so it would emit a gentle, rosy glow. She straightened easily, her sloppy side-bun jiggling at her head. "Percy, hey!"

He rubbed at his eyes. "Hi, um, sorry, can I still go back to sleep? I just want to—" he yawned, "head to the bathroom."

Annabeth nodded, a smile tugging at her mouth. "Yeah, okay. It's down the hallway. Wait." She darted back inside his room and then rushed out at same time, easing the last door open. "Right over there." He shuffled after her excited limber until they got to a creamy green door, smelling like basil. Annabeth pushed a thick bundle inside his arms. "Here, pajamas. They'll be more comfortable," she said, nodding at his wrinkled shirt.

Percy tried to leave the bathroom as nice as he found it, scented and sparkling clean, and curled back up on his couch. He couldn't empty his bladder. But then Annabeth was refilling his cup like an experienced waitress, raising her jug high above the giant glass. "I don't want you to get dehydrated. Drink." It was the same chamomile tea, but warm again, and sweeter. Annabeth wouldn't budge until he had mostly emptied it. And then she filled it again.

"I'll leave it in this cupholder, so you won't be able to knock it over in the dark if you wake up thirsty. And rest well, okay?"

He sleepily nodded. It wasn't hard to submit to her lighthearted commands. At the sound of her feet moving around the next room before silence, and then the flipping of pages, he buried his face into the couch and slipped back into sleep.

-line break-

At the crack of dawn, he woke up again to a dampness across his skin and very familiar twinge in his gut. All night he'd been shaken awake by Annabeth to drink, drink some more. He made a few more fruitless trips to the bathroom, but eventually he parked himself under his blanket and dutifully waited for the next wake-up call. A variety of flower and fruit teas steamed by his head, and when he was feeling more awake he clutched a cup of hot cocoa as Annabeth read aloud from her book, which quickly put him back to sleep, and now a heavy coffee scent was drifting down the hallway as he slipped back inside the bathroom, now smudged with footprints and messy from his visits.

Annabeth presented him with a navy-colored cup, heaped with cream. "Decaf cappuccino." She grinned. "I don't want to keep you up." Percy nodded and sped past her room, heading straight for his cozy nest until the coffee suddenly slushed in his cup and he braked to a stop, glancing down at the mug. Suddenly, under the dim lamp glow, he noticed an "i" scribbled inside.

He stopped and looked up at Annabeth. At some point she had grabbed a thick afghan patterned with time-dulled colors, and her bun was falling apart all over her wrapped shoulders. Her strong calves peeked out from underneath her pale gingham pajama pants, and her lids were lowered even as she looked up, colored, like, with eye shadow, by the shadows in the room. Annabeth never wore makeup, Percy realized with a shock.

"Hi," he whispered back. She glanced up by her book, startled, but her face relaxed into a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you," she said.

He didn't know how to be polite back. "Thanks." His voice was growing hoarse.

She looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn't need to be. Percy raised his mug and tipped it back. Hurriedly he wiped the foam off his lip, watching her eyes crinkle. "This is good. I'll finish it."

Her happy smile, as opposed to her other ones, was the last thing to disappear before his sleep.

-line break-

For the first time, he didn't wake up to his needy bladder. Instead, it was a low vibration and explosive bursts of music that jolted his eyes open. For a second, he scrambled through his sleepy brain for recognition, and then he was jumping out from under his blanket and rushing to the pile of crumpled clothes on the ground. Fumbling through his jackets and his pants, he finally came up with his ancient phone, buzzing with Grover's name and twenty missed calls from him.

He blinked to accept the bright flash of light as he unlocked the phone and picked up. "Dude!" Grover whispered, his voice cracking with panic. "Yes, you're—where are you? Why didn't you go home last night? Don't you know—" Grover squeaked a frustrated noise. "It doesn't matter, whatever. Pike is just finishing his morning drink, and you're not here! Get your butt to the grocery, Perce!" His friend sounded uncharacteristically pissed. Percy mumbled some nonsense and told him he would get there immediately. He abandoned his giant, comfy cotton pjs with his sloppy blanket and blazed outside. Annabeth, who was slowly raising a cup of coffee to her lips and stolidly regarding her book, jumped slightly. She blinked at Percy. "Oh, good morning. Finally slept enough?"

"Um, yeah. Thanks. I have to—I have to go right now, but yeah. Thank you." He nodded, for the lack of anything better to do, and headed for the door. Percy couldn't just leave, though. He had to thank her somehow for staying up the whole night. But his blood was pounding too hard in his head for him to think clearly about it. "Um, I really appreciate this. I'm sorry—um, no, I'm glad for this. Thank you, Annabeth."

He mustered a smile before heading down the hallway, running down the stairs, and making straight for the door before almost colliding with Lou Ellen.

"Percy?" She flicked her keys into her bag. "Oh, hi! It's nice to see you this early. Are you two pretty busy the rest of the day?"

"Um, no?" He looked her over in confusion. She had a thermos in one hand, a croissant in the other, and her coat was a little ruffled like she just got in.

"Well, we just open at this time, so yeah. Unless she's working late or early, which she does a lot," Lou Ellen said with a smile.

Percy blinked as it came together. Annabeth stayed up the whole night for him, even though she was supposed to be out, just so he could have some rest and—

He realized it now. It was so obvious. She wanted to flush out the remnants of drugs from his system so she almost flooded him.

But before he could do anything about it, he glimpsed the sun rising behind Lou Ellen, and he was reminded of his job. If he messed up one more time, Pike would fire him on the spot. He knew that. "Just ask Annabeth, bye," he mumbled to Lou Ellen and ran past the glass doors.

New York was freezing outside Half-Blood Hill. He yanked his jacket around him tightly and clambered down the narrow stairwell down into the dank subway, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the twitchy florescent tubes. Tentatively he pressed his wrinkled and stained card to the turnstile entry, crossing his fingers that the icy metal rods would release him. They pushed him forward into the grimy station, and the immediate wind and noise of a subway pulling into place blew his uncut hair into his eyes. The crowd pulled him in, and he had to quickly scrounge through his memory to see if this was even the right train. It was.

Feeling his shoulders sink down, he pulled his phone out from his pocket and peered at the cracked screen. He cursed in his head. He was running fifteen minutes late.

"There's nothing you can do about it," a sleazy voice slurred in his head. "Don't bother to even care, you little trash-faced punk." Percy shuddered involuntarily. He could still remember the inclinations of his voice, the way it would scratch down his back like claws, after all this time. Of course, his mind would pick Gabe to remember so well, but not his mother.

The subway shuddered to a stop, and someone's bony shoulder jabbed into his chest. He looked up to a see a girl with a freakishly sharp chin glare at him before streaking outside. Percy frantically searched the station for a sign. He was already at his stop, all the way down on the Lower West Side. Elbowing his way out, he slapped his card again and barged through the turnstile, skipping three steps at a time to emerge into the cold winter light, and flat-out ran towards Freidman's Grocery. Turn twice, hop through the small concrete yard on the corner, and blaze past circles of confused people heading away from the store, and slam the door of the staff's entrance closed. For a second, his heavy breathing was the only thing to fill the dark, empty locker room.

And then he heard a muffled yell from outside. His heart slamming against his chest, Percy yanked his uniform over his frosted clothes and tiptoed through the storage room before surreptitiously slipping out into the store. The smell of expired cleaning spray and wilted, resigned vegetables hung in the air, along with a heavy feeling. Even the Stolls' raucous hyena laugh wasn't blasting out from behind an aisle. As Percy crept down the canned goods aisle, Pike's low, phlegmy voice could be heard rumbling expletives and threats. There he was, lobbing his hairy fist at Grover, frozen behind the counter with a mess of change before him, and the Stolls standing beside him with their curly heads lowered. He almost thought he were subdued by Pike's whiskey-coffee breath before he saw a familiar smirk and some glossy face on a rolled-up magazine peeking out of Connor…or was it Travis' back pocket.

"Underwood! You should know where he is. Isn't he your best friend forever?" he taunted. "Not saying anything, covering for him? Trust me, you won't be able to keep him safe."

"Come on." He spun to the Stolls when Grover's trapped-in-amber expression didn't twitch. "What do you guys even do around here? Do you know how dirty it is! No f**king person wants to come inside! I can't even afford you two both. Two extra f**king workers, who's ever heard of that?"

They were biting their lips hard, Percy could see. He didn't understand how they held in their laughs for so long.

"You know a new shipment of Florida oranges just came? All the way from Florida! Who's going to put them out, huh?"

Percy ducked behind the candy bar rack and stared through the gap between the Snickers and the Mars Bars at Grover, hoping he would be able to feel his gaze. It took him a while, but Grover glanced over, and then his eyes widened hugely. He always looked a little scared, a little sad when he saw Percy. His blood drained from his face when he took in his surroundings. Grover clearly struggled between what to do, but when Pike's spittle suddenly sprayed his cheek, he shook his head once, violently, and then turned back to obediently standing to his yelling.

Percy stood completely still. The Stolls didn't care, obviously not. And Grover could take it. Grover took everything that happened to him without saying a word. Everyone said his friend was the coward, but really, he was the stronger one.

Did any of this really matter? Pike would still get pissed the next day, the next week. Both of them would get yelled at, that wouldn't change based on who "saved" the other right now. Grover would still stand by him with that suffocating, guilty silence as they chewed overly long on their slices of pizza with the bright light of ancient comedies playing over their faces. And Pike would still pay them the barest minimum, and it would still disappear immediately for Percy to just feel a little bit better, for a little moment that didn't last.

He watched Grover gnaw on his lip, and his eyes shoot around the room, and the way his feet twitched against the floor.

Whatever it was that dragged himself forward, he didn't really bother to find out. Nothing mattered, he reminded himself. Whatever Pike said to him, it wouldn't get any worse. It actually couldn't.

"Stop it—" he cut into Pike's rant. "They didn't know. I overslept, I'm late." Pike spun, his eyes popping with veins, sweat already beading at his forehead, and lobbed foaming-at-the-mouth swearing and anger at him. Percy raised his eyes to Grover. He looked shocked, like he was about to protest, but when he saw Percy's face, he simply turned passive. If he was hurt, angry, sad, Percy wouldn't be able to know. They kept it calm between them.

When Pike finished and sagged against the register in exhaustion, Percy simply turned and headed back into the storage room, heading for the new deliveries pile. There was a box of Florida oranges. He peeled open the heavy tape, and there it was, a white-green splotch on the top sagging orange. It smelled rottenly sweet.

-line break-

"What are we doing now? Our shift is over, we can stay up a little later today," Grover's hat slipped over his eyes as he grew deep in thought over their schedule. "There's that really long finale to Law and Order that finally finished downloading onto my laptop."

Percy shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets to warm them. They were just wandering around the streets outside their big joint neighborhood, the one sandwiched between random little shops that tourists might just possibly get lost at and the darker roads that no one ever visited during the day. Neither of them were itching to get back.

"I don't know, whatever work is like." Percy aimlessly peered into a dark window display. "I don't have anything tomorrow," he added as an afterthought.

And then Grover was silent, too silent. Percy glanced over briefly and saw the struggle play out on his friend's face, from his twitching lips to squinting eyes to the nervous tick of his cheeks. Finally he swallowed it back in. "Um, we don't have much for work." They were both throwing that word around very loosely, even though they never called lazing around Freidman's that. "I don't know, we don't have to get extra hours, and we might get to sleep in a little since there's that Wednesday night dinner-and-drinks deal Pike always gets hungover from…" he trailed off and returned to eying Percy weirdly, like he was bursting with words that were none of the ones he said. But a low, insistent tune played out from Grover's pocket, and a familiar woozy expression filled his eyes. He embarrassedly looked around, and then ducking his head and avoiding Percy's eyes, quickly dashed to the side and picked up.

Percy unabashedly watched his call with Juniper. Though frustration and sadness filtered through his face, Grover was still deeply enamored with his girlfriend, Percy could tell. They've been dating for almost three years, and though they didn't talk much about her, she was clearly the biggest thing in his life. They always talked so much, and for so long, and it was like Juniper couldn't be unemotional around him. They were probably so close because of that.

Grover finally hung up, after murmuring lovey-dovey things in a stage whisper that was reciprocated by a loud mwah sound from Juniper's side, and somberly made his way back to Percy.

"So? Have you decided what we're doing?"

Percy glanced at him sideways, but Grover easily filled up the conversation. "Fine, well, we could splurge on something, right? Like those extra-cheesy quesadillas at Hernandez's?"

It was weird, how, even though he didn't feel anything, his ocean would start stirring. "Isn't it your anniversary with Juniper?" Bits of their conversation had carried on the wind. "You don't have to spend it with me."

Grover looked at him with melting brown eyes, temporarily stunned. "No, no, Juniper and I already figured it out. We live pretty close." His words rushed out faster. They both knew that Juniper lived in a nice, middle-class community with flowerpots and Golden Retrievers. It was far from them. "And we always hang out and have dinner. She doesn't want me to throw that away."

He didn't believe any of that. His ocean roared. Grover was so afraid of shaking him up, he actually brought up his girlfriend for once. He couldn't bear to ask him whatever it was he was thinking of earlier, but Grover actually said Juniper's name. And he could tell, they both pitied him a little. What a stupid thing to be fighting about, him. "Please," he pleaded.

Percy gritted his teeth, but his inner waters were growing calmer. Maybe supporting him made Grover feel better. He strode up to his friend. "We have to go back, I'll grab my money."

"No, someone left an extra ten dollars on the counter yesterday. I can cover it." Grover still studiously avoided his eyes. He always payed the majority of their food, and normally, it would just be something cheap and not a big deal, but he was so obvious. Now the pricey food was still for him.

"No, I don't have any on me, let's go." They both knew that, but Grover wanted to pretend they were arguing, it seemed. He turned and went ahead without looking back. Grover would follow, of course.

As they walked in silence, under the weight of Grover's side glances and swallowed questions, his thoughts heaved one last time against their normally well-built barrier, and managed to burst through.

It was so annoying, every time, for him to go back to his little hidey hole in the building, to take off just a few dollars off his wan "collection," but he hated considering anything else. If he kept it on himself, he would lose it immediately. And he needed his money. The reliance was like a stone in his ocean, like a buildup in his taunt veins. Not that it could really supply his greed—or maybe it was just greed driving in, but he had to buy something every week to hold his empty body together.

He was completely stuck in that horrible mud pond everyone else knew better to fall into. Percy was rich by doing his rounds and by saving up much of his salary, but he was also so broke. Chris probably used sometimes, but other than permanently seeming distant and on edge, he was well-off with his big industry, and Grover was still able to pay for everything they did together and for his own house and for Juniper with the few times he accompanied Percy and Chris. Never touch your own stuff. It's flipping easy to get hooked onto. No one was around to tell him that, but he'd heard of it many times.

And then Percy went and got worse, the one that was possibly the worst, that you didn't break off from.

Then that one part of his brain that was always wide-awake cleaned up his vision so he would notice the gradually-getting familiar pattern of uneven sidewalk tiles and cracks on the pavement. His ambling train of thoughts was shut up again. Percy wanted to leave Grover behind, because his own apartment, with the bed in the kitchen and fake dinner candlesticks on the coffee table, was so much nicer than the trash heap Percy roomed in. But they headed in, Grover limping behind him on the wobbly flights of stairs, and Percy systematically went down the door, undoing all the locks, and lead his best friend in.

Most of the guys were gone from the living room, and there was the stench of smoke and roaring laughter from the back. Only when Percy passed the tangle of blankets did he notice Harvey peeking at Grover, wide-eyed. He seemed surprised that Percy had such a companion.

Grover noticed him a few seconds later and blinked at him. "Wha—why are you living here? How did you even get a spot?"

"His brother paid. Mason, from three streets down." Percy cut in before Harvey could speak.

"He's in a t-shirt," Grover whispered softly, his eyes still pinned on Harvey, bundled up in his too-small blanket, goosebumps running all over his skin.

Percy was already far ahead, by his own spot in the back. "He's fine. He learned how to stay warm. This is better than the streets, alright?" Ignoring Grover's startled silence, he went along the far wall, still hidden from view, getting away from what everyone thought was his property. His ocean protested violently, but he refused to think about the young boy with a curly head of hair. Percy pried at the clunk of slightly loose plaster, and then the brick behind it, before skimming out a few dusty, pressed-flat bills. Hurriedly stuffing them into the waistband of his pants, he finished up his ritual and emerged from over by his cot.

Grover was kneeling by Harvey, and they were just silently staring at each other. Percy stopped, for a second, in his steps when he realized that maybe Grover wanted to be a father. Of some ruddy-faced child with Juniper's apple green eyes and a shower of freckles over their nose and hair that couldn't be contained.

As he stood there watching them watch each other, Chris ambled into the room in a dingy white undershirt and low-slung drawstring pants, carrying an empty glass. He looked startled at meeting all of them like this, in daylight.

He first glanced at Percy with his watered-down brown eyes, but Percy stopped being able to meet them for a while. Grover was already getting back up.

"Hey," he said hesitantly to both of them.

Grover nodded back. It was so much easier to face each other when it was dark at night.

"You okay?" Grover mumbled to the dusty floor.

"Yeah. You?"

"Good."

Percy kept silent.

Chris swallowed, nodded stiffly, and disappeared where he came from.

"Quesadillas?" Grover asked. He was getting better at filling his silences.

"Yeah, okay."

Percy dragged his feet, though, slowing at Harvey's cot. He stared up at him with huge, scared brown eyes, but almost defiant, the way he dared to meet him.

"I don't need to eat," he muttered incoherently, and dove back into his blankets.

One of the guys in the kitchen right now fed him scraps, and from the way Jake Mason was built, he would be able to take it. Percy dragged his gaze away and headed to Grover, waiting outside. He heard softly padding feet and all the locks coming into place.

Harvey spent a lot of time alone, he realized.

"Maybe we can try some of Hernandez's limeades. I heard they're horribly sour but a good deal."

Percy nodded. He didn't really taste much nowadays.

Down the street, Percy was walking and watching his shoes, but he slid to the side the same time as a dark-clothed figure darted to the other half, almost hugging the buildings next to him. But he threw away all his inconspicuousness in a second, his head jolting up when he got closer.

Whitish skin, that heavy chunk of ebony hair in his eyes, and the ring flashing in the cold light…that ring that probably caused a dent in his jaw, that ring that he watched so many times through blurred tears, that ring that matched another olive-skinned hand, and was now everything he lost.

He wished he didn't look up, for the millionth time.

Nico had stiffened, and his shuffle grew faster. A dash of cold wind swept by with him. He didn't turn at all.

Grover had stopped, completely. He still acted so naïve sometimes, even though he knew what other people could be like, and stood there with his jaw hanging slightly. "Nico?" he mouthed to Percy.

Shrugging his friend off, he continued to Hernandez's. He really hated his home, and how closely he lived to all these people he never wanted to see.

Grover finally stopped pestering him with small talk throughout dinner. They washed down their greasy quesadillas with the eye-watering limeades and quietly sat through Law and Order, munching on their leftover tortilla chips.

When Percy felt a vibration on Grover's ratty canvas couch and caught Juniper's name and a picture of a slender, hugely-smiling girl leaning against a tree that flashed across his phone screen before Grover snatched it up, Percy quickly left and wandered back down the dark streets to his place.

Harvey was quite surprised after peeking around the door. It was too icy at night for him to lift out his key with his bare hands, and despite Harvey's stick arms and hollowed stomach exposed by his too-small shirt, he was still the one who did the most traversing around the apartment, fetching cigarettes or more for the others and disappearing when he was banished and dutifully letting people in.

_He's so much better off than you were,_ something hissed in Percy's mind. _He would've toppled you with a push._

Percy allowed him one small grateful nod before shouldering past him to find Chris. Harvey's giant eyes and soft grunt as he was pushed over by his legs, along with similar pitiful cries in a squeakier version of his voice echoed loudly in his mind, but Percy just strode faster to find his quasi-friend. "Rodriguez," he said lowly when he found Chris hunched over by the falling-apart fridge, snuggled in a comfy coat and peering at the dim light of his phone screen. A new leather bracelet, with a carved bronze heart braided in, gleamed on his wrist as he typed frenetically. Clarisse probably had the same one.

"Rodriguez," he repeated, sharper.

Chris glanced up, his eyes growing wide. He hated all these big eyes around him.

"Take me somewhere. There's always a party in Upper East."

"Percy," his voice grew stretched, "it's not that safe tonight. It'll suck to get arrested in this cold."

He just wanted to keep talking to his girlfriend. His thoughts were getting laced heavily with acid. "There's a party somewhere," he insisted. "Or even a street corner."

"I'm out. We'll have to travel a long time to find the source." Chris always sounded so calm when he talked about this, like he was discussing something deep and intellectual.

"I just need the money, Chris. I just need the f**king money."

"The only party that we can go without the threat of police has a bunch of gamblers and a lot of drink. They still want to think coherently enough to bid. And they'll start throwing punches at the end of the night. I don't think Pike would like you to show up with a bruise tomorrow."

He was supposed to show up with Grover, well-rested, stuffed with buttery popcorn. He needed something else to do.

_If you punch some half-a**ed rich guy once, no one will know._

"Someone there will want something," he whispered. "Come on, Chris. You don't have to stay."

Chris stared at the ground for a few seconds. "I'm not going to leave you there."

"Why not?" his voice was raising. "Because you feel responsible for me?"

"Yeah." Chris set his jaw.

Then you shouldn't have led me to this, you—

"I need the money." He sounded weak and tired to himself. "I need it soon."

Chris suddenly looked up at him. "I looked into the trash can this morning. You just used."

"It's all out of my system. I drank a lot of water last night." He realized something. _Those pajamas she gave me made me sweat out my bodily fluids. I kept drinking. And now it's all gone._

"Yeah, I know. Does it matter to you if I start saving up again?"

Chris' face folded slightly, like he was in pain. "Percy, I know you're tired. Call it a day. I'll get my new shipment soon." He was using a similar voice to what one of his roommates used with Harvey.

So, he imploded and yelled and clenched his fists. His ocean had long stopped boiling, but it was stirring and crashing listlessly. Desperately. Chris wasn't cowed easily, he dated Clarisse, but he eventually got up with a lowered head. "Turn around, please." Percy knew he was grabbing his wallet.

-line break-

The long subway ride to a dark, windowless building and the wild party with flashing casinos melted together. All those loud sounds, the of cold metal seats he sat prone on, and the squelching of plastic bags in his pants were all like sand fluttering between his fingers. The night passed slower and slower, and Chris was right. There was barely any money tucked all the way up his sleeve. When the inevitable fight broke up over a pile of sloppy cards and red-faced men, Percy was too woozy to even throw a punch, plus Chris was already singlehandedly hauling him away.

He returned again to their apartment for the third time. Harvey flipped over in his bed, his invisible gaze still burning in the dark. He couldn't avoid any of this, it seemed. He didn't say a thing to Chris and went straight to his cot, piling on more clothes before curling up under his well-worn blanket.

Sleep was hanging over him in a haze, but his rushing blood kept him up. Now that he was still, the block in his mind crumbled, and his thoughts flooded through.

His friendship with Grover was so messed up.

He said they were content, and maybe just the barest, but not really.

Percy didn't think they would truly get close, that Grover would ever try to understand him again. No one would, could. He wouldn't be able to save Grover from their horrible job, for from falling into the trap of knowing him.

But he did have something to look forward to. Juniper.

But being close wasn't something Percy and Grover could achieve, just because of, well, him.

Realizing that couldn't make him feel bad anymore. His friendships should healthily remain at a distance, and then they would stay as friendships. Or at least, he didn't think he could be close with anyone anymore.

Maybe that made him feel a little colder, but he had no idea.

When he rolled over the lump in his pillow, a sick feeling rose from the constant churning in his stomach.

Rachel hated a flat pillow. She loved texture, shadow, something she could shade.

He and Rachel were nothing close to lovesick Grover and Juniper, on the very verge of engagement. The time they knew each other was so short, Percy could hardly name much about Rachel Elizabeth Dare as a person. He thought-he told himself, they had something, and he could live on it. But she was flawed, he was flawed. She was the last thing he wanted to try and rely on, since he couldn't even pretend that there was love between them. It was hard to face it, but after nights of sleeping to dull pinches in his arm and days of waking to the lightless, stony world, that wouldn't ever give his life meaning.

He wasn't quite sure what would.

Rachel and Reyna always followed each other in his mind. Which was crazy, since they hardly knew each other.

He didn't deserve to miss her. But it wasn't like he could feel anything else about her anymore. Well, he never did. She was something between his sister and his friend. She told him once about how a lady who raised wolves just started taking care of her when she was young.

He always pondered that with his middle-schooler, creative mind. Could Reyna hunt? Did she know how to run like the wind on all fours? Was Reyna a werewolf? Now, though, Percy tried to force himself to stop thinking about her, and it was only when he was too tired to do anything about it when his thoughts began slipping through.

Percy always thought Reyna was like that woman to him.

But he chased her away.

There was no reason for him to blame the universe for being harsh. He caused all his problems. He was the one who allowed himself to fall into this horrible mess. If he didn't make his mistakes, he would be a normal person, living in a nice-sized apartment like Juniper's, with a job that paid more than three digits, and still a family around him.

There was his father. But he probably drowned because he was trying to get away from little Percy.

His sea was flinging itself everywhere, spraying tall waves of foam. He was so stuffed with his emptiness.

The only thing that could fill it was heroin-induced happiness. But it never lasted.

Percy rolled over, buried his face into his "textured" pillow and screamed as long as he could. He wasn't angry enough for it, but if he acted like it, maybe that would be better than nothing.

The one thing that temporarily dragged him out of his stupor was the buzzing of his phone against his hip. He blinked at the blue light seeping through the cracks, and slowly the letters grew coherent in his mind. _Annabeth._

His thumb jumped before he could think about it to the "accept" button.

"Hey, I guessed you were still up, and I'm just calling to check in. How are you feeling, Percy?"

"I'm good," he immediately responded.

"Really?" She didn't sound surprised, just intrigued to hear more about his supposedly nice day.

"Yeah. Thanks for checking in. "

He heard Annabeth breathe out. "Of course. If you want to tell me more, I'm free anytime. But no pressure."

Percy wanted to roll his eyes at how considerate she was being. Right now, he wanted to just take comfort in her attention and not bring up his messes. He had a feeling she would push him again later. "Bye."

"Good night, Percy."

**Um, yep, that's it, it's kind of a mess, I know, but c'mon, he's supposed to be a mess. Anyway, thanks for waiting, I realized I literally cannot stop breaking my promises. So, not going to make a new one. Oh, wait, is that a promise?**

**Replies:**

**PercabethToInfinity: I loved your review. Trust me, that is not long compared to the rambles I go on under a pen name so other authors don't know who I am… I am trying to make sense of what I'm writing, so thanks for your incredible description. Though that wasn't exactly the central theme I was going for (*cough* not a literature geek or anything), and not that I exactly have one, that is really important and I'm glad you picked that up. I hope you didn't wait too long for this…heh…by the way I like your use of ellipses. Keep reading, I hope to uncover a lot more deep things, and just really thanks.**

**Nihal27: Oh my word, really? That makes me so happy. Honestly, I'm not trying to go down the normal road so I wasn't sure what kind of feedback I would get but, thanks that is SO nice of you to say. I'm not sure if this is really the good work, but okay. I do have some stuff planned and yeah, you kind of have to wait for me, but thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Welp, hi again, new chapter, hopefully it's more developed, and if you have any suggestions on how I should improve please send them! Oh, also, I heard that Giving Tuesday was this week, so, yay! I'm giving lots of love to everyone! **

**Also, thanks to TotallyNerdy for beta-ing every single chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: The popular New York-style cheesecake was apparently created by a man named Arnold Reuben, born in Germany. As with the origin of most popular baked goods, it is impossible to tell myth from truth, but the story goes that he attended a party where cheese pie was served and conjured up the NY cheesecake at home in an attempt to replicate it. In fact, the cheesecake is not technically a cake, but a custard pie and also a torte. _

He felt it rumble beneath his feet before he saw it coming. The rush traveled up his bones, jarred his heartbeat. It was the only little piece of home he had.

Percy headed to the dark green staircase, ducking his head under the low ceiling as he traveled into the earth. The ear-splitting whir and crunch grew deafening. It was almost here.

The bright fluorescent tubes played with his vision, dimming everything, turning the floor tiles shadowy and gray. It was easy for him to slip inside, blend in with everyone else. To disappear.

_Like everyone would like you to, huh?_

He never really checked the signs. He knew which station he was at, and with one glance at the train's leter, he knew where it was going.

Most of the time. He couldn't exactly figure out where he was going, or how to do much of anything, so he didn't always get it right.

The train finally thundered to a stop before him. He streamed inside, grasping a pole in the back as latecomers blazed into the station, ferociously slamming at the closed doors until they relented, and moving into the corner as people packed inside.

The train gave a bumpy start and raced down the tunnel. Everyone shuffled into one another before straightening, keeping a wide berth from touching each other.

_No one wants to catch something. Like poverty._

The collar of his blue jumpsuit stuck out from under his huge, damp coat, with the ugly stitching of the grocery. He didn't take it off much, even though they were supposed to deposit them into their lockers at the end of the day. It fit him well.

They crashed into a new station, lights spilling through the grimy windows again. He checked the name, just briefly. They were far away from Annabeth.

_Sh*t. Annabeth._ He didn't know where to start with her.

It was hard to believe, that she still wanted to listen to him and all his nonsense. _She doesn't know the brunt of it._ But she had a glimpse into his private thoughts, his background, and his life now, and she was still calling him up to see when they could meet again.

_She's being paid for it, idiot._

It was his first time stopping to think about. Her company was doing well. When he took the stairs, he saw some Birkin or Kate Spade bags sitting in the therapy-cubicle armchairs. There were some pretty affluent people visiting Half-Blood Hill. Then why did she accept him? Just out of the kindness of her heart, as a charity project?

His mind began to spin a little. Miranda's sister was giving birth at the same hospital he was in. Clearly, they weren't well-off. Did Annabeth have a lot of charity projects for friends?

_Doesn't matter. It's not like you're her friend._

But she didn't pity him. Not at all. He was familiar with it, and it wasn't in her eyes, her gestures, her face. She pretty much just liked watching him drink her coffee. And waiting for him to answer her questions. It was pretty much impossible.

_I am so f**king lost._

The train rumbled to a stop. It was his stop. He walked out on lead legs, worrying about the amount on his card, about the puddle of murky water by the entrance, and as he faked a smile for the full-body cast guy at the counter, worrying about what to say to Annabeth.

She was probably going to ask about the night before. Why he said he was fine when he clearly wasn't. Why he was running a little late, why he was in his work clothes. It was easy to talk to her, and she always received it well. It was just that he was a pretty messed-up person, and she knew that well since he'd opened his mouth.

His insecurities closed like a hand around his throat. But he wasn't even close to done.

Annabeth could've been a perfectly nice person, who really did care for him out the magical kindness of her heart. Still, no matter how amazing she was, could she actually cut through all the sh*t around him and save him? How could it be possible for anyone to invent hope for him?

_I'm so exhausted._

And then he discovered his feet had carried him up to Annabeth's door. He knocked, and Annabeth said, "Open, sesame" from inside. There was almost a little bit of laughter in her voice.

Hesitantly, he turned the handle himself and walked into the heated room. Annabeth jumped up from her nest of a chair and headed over to him. "The door's open for you, Percy, you can come straight in." She walked steadily at his pace to the table. "I'd make some cheesy remark on how you need to open the doors in your life, but you can figure that out yourself." She flashed a quick grin. "Anyway, your personalized blue coffee of the day, unless you have another barista, is right over there."

Percy awkwardly ambled over to her kitchenette counter, feeling like he was an intruder. His mug, the blue one he picked the first one, was steadily expelling steam, and swaddled in a watery-pale scarf.

He wondered if she was trying to be cute or just trying too much. He wondered what he was supposed to think of it. What he actually thought.

"You don't have to take the scarf, it's just to keep your coffee warm." Another side grin, curling into her face.

He carefully unfolded the yarn from his drink and brought it up to his face. The steam immediately condensed on his nose and upper lip, like a blanket of lukewarm sweat. The letter was a "b."

It tasted of caramel and cocoa, and with a hint of spice. He wondered if Annabeth ever wanted to be a real barista at a coffee shop for fun. Since she clearly didn't need to work for money.

"Hey, I'm curious, do you drink a lot of coffee outside of here?" They were seated before each other again.

"Not much." He didn't actually have a preference, but at least Annabeth's concoctions tasted good.

She nodded. "Well, you do seem to enjoy it, and I'm wondering if the caffeine affects you."

It was hard to discern physical exhaustion and the other one that seeped through his cells. He didn't think it was mental, but he couldn't tell. "No, not really."

"Then are you naturally insomniac?"

His mind did a double take. "How do you know?" he sputtered, probably his loudest word yet.

She bit her lip, trying to swallow a smile. "Wild guess. And I was trained to tell. Most people have it for no reason."

Of course she knew. "Me too, I think."

"Then when did you go to sleep last night?"

He blinked. He couldn't actually remember. Most things in his memory were faded and unclear, but he was sure that he didn't lie in the dark for as long as usual. "Not sure. A little earlier than usual?" He wasn't going to tell her why.

Annabeth raised her eyebrow, but in a blink, went back to smiling faintly. "Oh, well, that's great. I think that your mental well-being definitely has to do with sleep."

He wasn't sure what it was supposed to help, when there was no difference between sleeping and being awake. Everything was still dark, and he was still tired.

"What do you do if you can't sleep?"

It was always too tiring to do anything else but lie there. "I guess I kind of think about stuff."

Annabeth was quiet for once. She nodded.

"People, sometimes. Or just stuff that happened." It was so weird that she looked interested. "Yeah, mostly about other people from the past. Like who used to be my friends, some of them still here, some not, some far away." He swallowed. "My mother."

"Okay. What about them?"

"Whatever comes to mind. Just them saying things, or doing stuff, or maybe just standing there. Sometimes it's the same thing, over and over. All the details there, some real, some invented, and just someone doing one thing again. Or it could be mostly blank. Just a face or a voice."

"Do you go to sleep after that?"

"Eventually."

"Is it ever anything in particular?"

"Not really." He paused. "Well, it's usually before. Close to… what happened."

She nodded, her eyes clear as a pool of water. "Like?"

"Well," he took in a breath, "for this one it's only partially real, it's not directly from a memory or anything, but I remember this did happen with… this girl. Sometimes, I see the back of her turned to me as she sits by her easel, painting as she talks about her life and art and everything, whatever, or I'm imagining this girl who actually was my friend, a long time ago, when she was alive, sitting next to her boyfriend, their arms leaning against each other like they always did, and promising that they'll be there for each other forever. I'm sure it actually happened, but I have to imagine their conversation, since I never paid attention when they were there. I don't know. It's never anything in particular. Just small stuff. On other nights, though, everything is just blank and I'm staring at the ceiling until my eyes close.

"I mean, they just come to mind. Or something reminds me of someone. When someone is gone, either physically or just gone from my life, thinking about them is pretty much the only thing left to do. And it hurts more to forget them."

"So it's more than just random imagination?"

He blinked. Annabeth was listening more closely than he imagined. "I mean, it kind of just happens when I'm waiting to fall asleep."

"But you do control your subconscious mind, to some extent."

He bit his lip. He wasn't sure what to answer. "I guess. I mean, I would like to fall asleep, but when my body isn't getting tired my mind just wanders." Was she trying to tell him to relieve all his anxieties or whatever so he could go to sleep?

"And then?"

"Yeah, I normally keep thinking of them, just a bit longer. And I don't fall asleep because I just don't stop. Yeah. Like there might be more to it. Which there isn't, but I can't tell that to myself sometimes."

She nodded quietly. "Don't let go of your memories. There is more to them. They hold your emotions, the impact someone had on you. But you're going to going to lose them if you fall asleep." She stretched, curving her body. "But I know that's easier said than done. You know what, I was wondering if you'd be okay with a field trip."

He raised his eyebrows.

"It's not terribly cold today. My friend just had a baby, so she kind of needs a hand and I thought I'd coerce you into doing that." She waved away his stunned expression. "No, I'm kidding. I already help her out in my free time, but if you want to visit, she does make pretty good food. I'll be able to handle the baby, so you can pretty much just eat and watch us, I guess."

And so they left. It was hard for him to say no to her.

Riding the subway with Annabeth was like inviting her to his home, except she also knew it well. She easily moved through the turnstile, and slipped between the crowds pushing in and out. She even managed to snag a single seat, which she offered to him. He took it, unsure of what to do next. He'd never had this happen to him before.

They headed into a rather nice neighborhood, with trees and grass at every corner and SUVs parked next to the cobbled sidewalk. They went inside an antique, green velour-wallpapered elevator with a metal screen for a door and emerged at the fifth floor, where Annabeth headed straight for the glossy wooden door on the right. The door swung open, and a pale hand gestured them in, so Percy trailed after Annabeth as she deposited her shoes on the carpet and wrapped her arms around her friend. It was like stepping into a living, breathing greenhouse. Potted plants hugged every wall, and a maze of hooks on the ceiling dropped long, hanging vines or flowers over their heads. The whole apartment smelled like damp soil and green growth with an edge of baby powder. It was partially neat, like someone was in the middle of cleaning it, but random things were strewn everywhere, and all the new baby stuff, still halfway in their packaging sat underfoot on the crumb-filled carpet. There was a lot of crashing and banging coming from one of the back rooms, but the curtain of ivy in the hallway prevented him from seeing much.

"Hey," Annabeth's friend said, noticing him. "Well, hi, I'm Katie. I've heard about you before. I think your name was… Peter?"

"No, Percy." She grasped his hand in her warm one. "Hi," he mumbled.

"Okay, well, it's nice to meet you. Excuse the mess, my husband and I aren't that neat, and I'm not sure how Annabeth got you to come here, but thanks for visiting."

"Do you want to visit the nursery first, or just let Katie lead you around the house?"

He shrugged. "Whatever is fine."

They headed towards the loud noises, going around the drooping vines and stepping over all the diaper packages. The nursery didn't have a door, just a curtain of tall grass, but inside was a really beautiful room. The walls were painted with the different seasons, shelves filled with souvenirs and figurines of other countries and landmarks, and the ground itself was just a sea of pillows. In the corner, inside a crib, a tiny baby was alternating between pawing at the leaves of a small apple tree planted behind him and knocking on the rails with his hands. He was so small, he could disappear between Katie's arms when she lifted him up. But she didn't coo, or baby talk to him, she smiled at him and said hello before passing his fragile body to Annabeth. His fists grasped Annabeth's sweater contently, and he easily snuggled into the crook of her arm. "I think he likes you better than me and Travis."

Annabeth gave her another one of her side-grins. "No, I don't think so, maybe it's just that he likes some peace and quiet."

Percy knew he didn't belong in a real home, with actual families. _It's been a long time since I've actually been around one. _He couldn't even keep his eyes on the baby's smooth face and shiny dark eyes. It hurt, somehow, to look at him.

Annabeth and Katie were running through all the usual mother talk… tummy time… sleeping enough… clothes fit him well… drinking water a lot, and he was spacing out when he felt something brush his shoulder. A shudder ran through him, his eyelids flinging closed into a flinch for a second before he quickly straightened himself and turned to look. The baby's little doughy cheek was curving into Annabeth's forearm as he docility watched Percy, and his hand was hovering between them, in the process of being caught. He blinked quickly and dropped his hand.

Percy stared at him silently. He was probably the first adult who didn't touch him or talk to him or pour love on him. He had no idea what to do. Here was another human being, an almost-perfect being that didn't know what the world was like and still didn't learn about having to do anything or care for anyone else and knew nothing but affection. Maybe he'll die happy. Or maybe he'll just be living his life, having it all figured out, and then suddenly contract depression. Since there was no built-up resistance to that.

It was frightening, how many possibilities were stuffed into the cells of this child.

He wanted to turn away, break eye contact, but even that could ruin his first golden years. What if he broke into tears?

Katie's baby scrunched his eyes up, leaning in to look at Percy closer. His fist moved over again, and his fingers spread, the longest middle one almost brushing Percy's linty jacket sleeve.

He didn't know what to make of this baby.

Annabeth's gentle gaze fell on him, something that always seemed to actually graze the top layer of his skin. "Do you want to hold him?" Her voice was plain, cautious, no longer pushing for an answer.

Percy didn't think before shaking his head. He was actually scared to touch the pinkish cotton-candy skin. Who knew, maybe he'd crumple under his touch, morph and shrink until all of his future was squeezed out of him. Or maybe Percy would just drop him straight onto the beaded pillows.

Annabeth nodded. "Okay. Are you hungry?"

Never, ever, to a stranger, do you accept, Reyna told him before. When passing random salesmen or people standing conspicuously at the corner, all asking the same question he kept his mouth shut like she said. He didn't want to stop now, even if she was gone. "No, not really."

"Well, I'm certain Katie has something sitting in the fridge, would you mind having some?" It wasn't so much the way Annabeth worded the question, but how she said it. Encouraging him, just a little, but not actually waiting for the answer she wanted to hear.

"I guess." They weaved through the jungle-y hallways until they got to a tiny kitchen with a certifiable herb garden at the two-pane window, Annabeth keeping her pace steady as she detoured around spiky bushes and ducking under long strands of leaves and flowers. Katie grinned back at him. "I made a no-bake cheesecake with some kind of lemony-sour cream frosting, and I'm not sure how it's going to turn out but I'll just cut you a small piece, okay?"

She hefted out a spring-foam pan from the fridge and, true to her word, gave Percy a forkful on a saucer. She grinned at his expression. "It comes as a set with the tea, but I always felt like they should serve a better purpose. Besides, my husband leaves a lot of rings on the coffee table because they create 'history' on the surface, so they're not really getting used anyway."

Annabeth gave him a fork, and he swallowed it in one bite. He really liked it. Cake was like an expensive delicacy to him, because he couldn't exactly buy these or make them and didn't know anyone who did. He kind of missed the taste. Katie's icing was insanely sour, but it tasted good on his tongue. Annabeth, this time without saying anything, nodded at him and cut him a larger piece that sat precariously on his saucer. "Is it okay?"

"Yeah." He thought it was weird that it wasn't Katie, who was now beaming off to the side, asking this, but Annabeth who seemed to be satisfied with something in his face.

He kept eating more, and it filled his stomach, but left his throat dry and his ocean motionless. Why would Katie just make cake and share it with a stranger? And why was Annabeth so observant and inclusive with him? How could it be out of the goodness of their hearts or something cheesy like that? Did he have a genetic defect, to never be able to care about someone else?

He never understood what he was going to feel. Here Annabeth and Katie were brightly welcoming him, and it was making him feel more hollow. Like a wind was blowing through him.

It was kind of comforting, though, being here. He was exhausted from trying to decide how he felt.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Annabeth sounded a bit lost in thought herself, but her eyes were open and watching.

He shook his head and did this shimmying thing with his shoulders. He wouldn't know how to say it aloud. "I like this cake."

Katie smiled and shook her head, too, but more like she was awkward with all the praise, or like she was trying to sneak her grin away. "Sorry I didn't make more. Maybe you'll just have to visit again."

He looked at Annabeth, almost as if for permission, but she shrugged. "Whenever you want, Percy." The movement shifted the baby in her arms, and though she immediately settled him back, he opened his small pink mouth and wailed.

Katie groaned. "I have three guesses for each time he does that. He's hungry, he's tired…well, it's probably not that one, or he's done something in his diaper." She held out her arms. "Guess I'll find out in the bathroom."

And then she was gone, and it was almost awkward, except he was with Annabeth. She started rinsing off the saucers and setting the spring-foam pan in the cabinet, making loose and light small talk. "Have you got any dinner plans?"

"No, not today."

She didn't stall on that, even though he gave that same answer before a few times. "Do you prefer to watch TV or go outside, or, I don't know, read?"

He bit his lip. "Watch TV, I guess." That was pretty much all of what he did with Grover. He paused. "Reading?" he asked softly.

Annabeth didn't laugh or brush him off. "Yeah, okay, it's my favorite pastime. Even the tour guides recognize me at the New York Public Library." She moved over to the herbs and ran a finger through their leaves. There were wooden signs with beautifully hand-lettered names stuck in the soil, and little pencil marks ran up the wall, marking the height of the plants, and there were even little satin ribbons gently tied around some of the stems. A shower of spicy scents ascended into the kitchen following Annabeth's unmanicured finger.

"Oh. Okay."

"Have you ever picked up any books that you liked?"

He couldn't remember back to that long. "Some." He tried to steal it back at her raised eyebrow. Goosebumps raised on the back of his neck. He'd never met a person who could tell he was lying. "I haven't read in awhile."

"Did you get any required reading in middle school? I would assume so, right?"

"Yeah." Something flickered in his mind's eye. He did remember a worn-down paperback poking out of his backpack, handed to him by one of his foster dads. It was probably one of the only things he'd gotten from them. "I liked Homer's Odyssey."

A grin split Annabeth's face. "Yeah, so did I. Reading in verse is interesting, right?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"Have you gone through it more than once?"

"I think so. Maybe twice."

Annabeth leaned against the counter. "Well, it's still a pretty good classic. It's often really crazy, reading a book again after a while. I do it a lot."

He shrugged. There wasn't anything special for him. He liked disappearing into another world. "I don't have the book anymore."

"Well, if you'd want, I have one at home." She watched him expectantly.

"Sure." He had plenty of time, and it was better than sitting around with this thoughts. He guessed Annabeth liked reading books from before because they helped her develop her mental growth or something, and he wasn't going to get that. But she was right, it was a good book.

"Well, how are you doing otherwise?" She paused and looked away for a moment. "You sounded a little tired last night. Or was that just me?"

He knew it. Here it comes. "No, I was just kind of sleepy." The words were bitter in his mouth. Slowly he realized that after that long conversation on his insomnia, she wasn't going to believe that he wanted to sleep at ten. "Well, not really. But a lot of stuff happened earlier."

She nodded. "And? Like what?"

There it was, that line again. He could cross it and spew out all of his nonsense, or just keep it brief and vague. But Annabeth clearly wanted to hear it. She never reacted to what he said, anyway. He tried toeing the line. "I was late to work," her eyes flashed slightly, but unlike her, he had no idea what that meant, "and my boss got kind of mad at me, and then I realized I was taking up all the time on my best friend's anniversary with his girlfriend, and then I," his eyes fell to the ground and stared at the linoleum tiles like they were super interesting, "went around to trying to deal but got nothing. And then I headed back." He didn't want to say home.

Annabeth nodded. She breathed out a small puff of air. "That is a lot. How was it, for you?"

He didn't have an explosion of suppressed emotions to erupt onto her. "I don't know. Kind of frustrated, annoyed or unhappy, I guess. Guilty about my friend." He didn't have to wait for a "why" from Annabeth. "He clearly wanted to spend time with his girlfriend, and she did too, but he was giving the whole day to me, because of, well, me. I know he doesn't want to let me go, because he thinks-knows I won't do very well on my own, and he'll feel bad." He still felt an angry stirring inside of him, and all he could do was focus on Annabeth's response, but it was better than he started out. A little, like he could now think about it differently.

"What would you rather him do?"

"Live his life. Make new, brighter friends. Stop hanging on to me because he feels bad." She didn't react to the acidity in his voice, but her gaze grew sharper.

"How do you know?"

The sarcastic words that sprang to his mind somehow fell out of his mouth. "We have a bad relationship. It's not nice like the ones he has with other people. We're both uncomfortable being around each other if things become deep. But he's too nice to stop our friendship."

"If you want him to, why don't you tell him?"

"Because we don't really talk about anything like our relationships. It's just too weird between us. Like, I don't know, he did before but I got him to stop and now we just don't have that closeness. And we're kind of beyond that closeness now, and it's too hard to return. It would make things more uncomfortable, even if I did want to talk about stuff."

"So you're feeling trapped by your own actions?"

"Yeah, I am."

"What do you guys do together?"

"We hang out at work, and I usually go to his house after dinner to watch TV."

"Every day?"

"Unless there's an opportunity to sell or buy… goods."

"But he doesn't want to continue this friendship?"

"Why would he?"

Annabeth tilted her head, her eyes dark gray in the dim winter light. "Then why does he still invite you, every day, despite how uncomfortable you two are with each other?"

"He's willing to sacrifice himself to make me feel better."

"And you would rather have him forget you?"

"Yes." D*mn it, she was getting a rise out of him. He felt something hot burn in his throat.

"Have you ever tried talking to him?"

"No, the mess I made with our relationship is just too big right now."

"Then maybe he can help you fix it?"

Katie's footsteps started padding down the hallway, along with her baby's soft giggles and burps. Percy immediately turned away, trying to banish his confused thoughts, but they kept whirring in his head.

"Oh, hi, sorry, did I interrupt you?" Katie asked when she got in, already moving a foot out the door.

Annabeth was still looking at the side of his face. "It's fine, I think we're okay."

_Why does it feel like she's always right?_

"Oh, well, still, that was very sudden of me. Thanks for cleaning up, though! I'm so glad you guys were able to come. Am I seeing more of you, Percy?" her voice was teasing, but Percy's head shot up, startled. Her winning smile didn't sway, though, and Percy found it somehow easy to meet her bright green eyes.

"Yeah, maybe," he said, slowly drawing his gaze away. A question formed in the corner of his mind.

Annabeth didn't even need to check the time. "Katie, I'm so happy you're willing to share your home and your food. Oh, and this little guy. But, will we be free to leave now? I believe my time is up with Percy."

Katie smiled widely at both of them. "Yeah, of course! Though… before you go, my son seemed insistent on getting you this gift…" she shuffled his dead-asleep body to her other arm in order to reach into his pocket, and held out a smooth wood-carved manta ray that easily fit in her palm. "Someone gave it to him at his baby shower, but he only began pointing at it just now."

Percy took it slowly, unsure of the gift. Did this tiny infant really want to give him something? The wood was glossy and soft, and the smooth wings comfortably poked into his hand.

Annabeth and Katie hugged, and they kept trading thanks and welcomes back and forth until the door finally shut behind them. Annabeth stayed pretty quiet on the way to the nearest subway station, her hands stuck her jacket pockets and her eyes deep in thought, but before they went in, she looked up at him.

"It was nice of you to choose to come, Percy. Thanks. I know you're not riding this way, so goodbye for now, and I'll see you soon?" A small smile crept up on her face.

"Yeah. Bye." She nodded and turned, and then he quietly said, "Thanks."

She didn't respond, but by the shift of her body posture, he knew she'd heard. And she seemed happy about it.

On the ride back to his place, he suddenly remembered something. His mom was the one other person who could tell he was lying.

**Finally I finished this overly long chapter! I hope you guys liked it! Review if you guys think there's anything I should change or add. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, I'm back after a while… Happy holidays, guys! Thanks for reading this, too. Also, this is probably not geographically correct but you can assume it is.**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth__: "I'm good the way I am. The world seems lighter, although I don't know if that's because of the dark glasses [I'm no longer wearing] or because I'm back on my meds," Audrey,_ Finding Audrey

"Thanks dude," he told Grover, picking up his jacket from the couch. "This was fun."

"Of course," Grover called over the sound of running water from his kitchen. Percy himself had not washed any dishes for years. "Hey, wait," Grover said, limping from the kitchen, drying his hands with a towel.

Percy stopped at the door, only turning slightly. "Yeah?"

"Will you, um, come again tomorrow?" Grover's voice was high-pitched and rushed, and he ducked his head to look at the ground.

They've been avoiding this topic for a while. Percy didn't tell him that he was going to a therapist, because, well, why would he, and Grover stewed away in curiosity. Or whatever it was. So far, he knew that Percy was busy every other day, and either left after work or in the morning on weekends, and he'd been tiptoeing around it. Grover, at least, had a knack for knowing what was sensitive, which was pretty much most things around them, but he'd stepped up for this one.

"No, I've got plans."

Grover was quiet for a moment, watching him. He wasn't going to stop with the questions yet. "Will you be back for dinner?"

"Yes." He always was, and Annabeth always asked him if he had plans. It was rather surreal. "No need to have me over, I can eat elsewhere."

"I like to have you here, Percy," Grover said softly, looking away.

The wave of his pity tasted terrible. Percy shook his head. "Thanks. Don't wait for me after work, okay?" He opened his front door and stepped out into the cold. It was just as silent outside, even in the city.

They had so much to say to each other, sometimes, it was like he could hear the words suffocating in their minds.

He thought back to what Annabeth said about them. It wasn't possible that Grover really wanted to be around who he was still now. Or at least not out of feeling bad.

Percy wandered the streets, keeping to the shadows and staying away from corners. As far as he could remember, he wasn't afraid of the dark as a kid. His mother told him it was a part of the world, that light needed to be countered by dark or else it wouldn't be so bright. He knew she would protect him from whatever he couldn't see.

He still wasn't scared, now. Except, maybe a little, of how he welcomed what he knew was there.

An itch crawled up his arm, and he shuddered, blowing out a fog of cold breath. He had to hold it in for now. He still couldn't pay for some more. Grover had funded their whole dinner tonight.

Percy ran up the stairs to keep himself warm, and trembled as his hands froze out from his pockets, unlocking the whole barricade on the door. Everyone was still awake inside the house, playing rowdy rock songs in the living room. Harvey had his back turned away from him.

Percy picked his way to the tent of his blankets and clothes in the back and burrowed inside of it, sliding his shoes off when he was finally wedged inside. His feet were ice blocks against his curled-up legs. His phone buzzed through the thin layers of his pants. Annabeth. He could always tell if it was her.

"Hey, how are you?"

'Good' always sprang to his lips, but he swallowed it this time. "Okay," he managed.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her dubious tone loud through his weak connection.

He couldn't even maintain indignancy, and his voice flew up, like he was asking a question. "Yeah."

"Anything happen?"

"Nothing interesting."

"I don't know, Percy, I find your life a lot more interesting than you think."

Well, maybe it was so messed up it was shocking. "Really, nothing."

"Then how do you feel?"

"Like usual. Not much."

She finally stopped pushing him. "Yeah, okay."

Oh, f**k it. "I think my friendship is messed up. It's—nothing special to today. I don't think my best friend and I really know each other. We're not close. I hurt him before and he doesn't want to reach out again and it would be better if we talked about something serious but then I'd have to reach out and say it."

It was still silent on her end. She whispered, "I'm nodding."

"It's all of my issues. I should probably apologize for blowing up on him too. But I don't want to ruin the peace we have. Even if it's fake."

"Which one do you want more?"

He didn't say anything either for a while. "For him to stay as my friend," he murmured. It was easier to say whatever came to mind when he couldn't see Annabeth's face. Couldn't imagine her judgement too clearly, even if he knew rationally that she wouldn't judge.

"Is he still your best friend right now?"

"Yeah, for the lack of anyone else. I know his girlfriend has replaced me in his life. He's too nice to say it, but I'm taking up too much space in their relationship. I know I'm being needy, but that's not going to change even if we pour out all of our feelings or whatever." He realized that maybe Annabeth would get offended, but she didn't say so.

"What could change that?"

He laughed bitterly. "Not feeling so alone and weak all the time." He was crossing so many lines. He couldn't believe he was saying this to a stranger in the middle of the night.

"I won't ask this time. You're the only one who can cause that."

He let out a deep breath. "I suppose I am, just like the mess in my friendship, huh?"

"Maybe. I'm guessing you don't want to continue. Look, I'll leave you to thinking about it yourself. Can I check in about tomorrow? What time will you be ready, Percy?"

Never, he thought, but brushed it away. She never took a non-answer. "In the afternoon. Four to five." They did this every weekday, but she still extended all twenty-four hours for him.

"Okay. Hey, can you show up in comfortable walking shoes?"

He had one pair of ratty sneakers that were too small, but they would have to do. "Yeah. Why?"

He could feel her smile pressing through the phone. "It's a surprise," she sang. It sounded like she'd been storing that for a while. "You know what, I won't keep you. If you can, you should probably sleep earlier."

"Long day of walking?"

"Two hours, Percy. Only two hours. But be prepared."

"Okay."

"I'll leave you to your own devices now. Good night," she said softly, and he closed his eyes against the bright light from the other room seeping through his blanket walls.

"Good night," he whispered back, and hung up.

He wondered where Chris was, if maybe he could stop feeling so itchy. But for now, he would have to wait. And think about how he could possibly change all his mistakes.

-line break-

When he got into the lobby, he was about to plow through all the business people to the staircase when he spotted someone very bright looking at him.

It was hard to mistake her. Annabeth's hair was bouncing in a sprucy ponytail, and her paranormally tan-in-winter skin was glowing happily in the pine-scented room. But instead of her usual comfy-looking leggings, she was wearing a touristy t-shirt with a silk-screened image of the Empire State Building and a Styrofoam Statue of Liberty crown, with a pair of binoculars swinging around her neck. Everything was ill-fitting, but they still looked great on her. People around her continued tapping on their laptops, utterly ignorant of their bizarrely-dressed CEO.

"This isn't it, Percy. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to do this too." She handed him a bundle of equally ugly clothes with a pair of new-looking shoes on top. "Also, I also happened to notice your shoes aren't faring so well, so you can borrow these today." Her tone was breezy, but also a little forceful. She was going to make him take her kindness.

He never had pride get in the away of accepting what others offered, only fear. But this was Annabeth, she wasn't expecting anything back. Their sessions were free, and she wasn't pulling those coffee grounds out of thin air. It was an entirely new world from the streets, where whatever he was given was wanted by no one else, and he didn't belong. He was certainly no stranger to shame, either. Shame for not being good enough, not deserving someone to give him a pair of free shoes, and for everything else, he'd heard so many people tell him. But Annabeth wouldn't care—well, she probably would, but she wouldn't let that change this.

"Thanks," he mumbled and wandered off for the bathroom in the direction she was pointing to. He wasn't surprised when he found a small dressing room in the corner, with a freshly-wiped mirror and a row of hooks on the wall. The whole bathroom smelled like lilacs or something like it. He put his pile of clothes on the cushioned bench. His shirt had a terrible pattern of "I (heart) NY" which was almost as bad as all the apples drawn on his winter-thick jeans. He also got a clunky Polaroid camera to wear on his neck. Percy shook his head and reluctantly hung up his jacket, but he realized it was still pretty warm in the building. He didn't see a lot of heaters around, though. He hurriedly stripped off, used to moving quickly to keep out the cold, and also to keep others happy. As he bent over to remove his socks; Annabeth even got him a pair with the Statue of Liberty's face on the ankles, he caught a glimpse of himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror and winced. He had to lift a lot of heavy stuff at work, and he only ate junk for his meals. But his ribs still stuck out above his sharp hipbones. Percy shook his head and slid on Annabeth's clothes faster. He'd always been a scrawny kid. It wasn't like he was loading up on carbs and protein every day.

Everything smelled like laundry detergent, like Annabeth didn't just grab them from a corner tourist shop. Percy tucked his scarf, with more hearts along the edges, over his nose and breathed in the smell. For a few seconds, he imagined it was her personal brand that she used and that all her clothes smelled like this, a bit flowery and a bit like powdered milk. A lot like a home.

And then he shook himself and carefully slid his feet into the shoes. He planned on returning them scot-free, somehow, after trekking through New York's streets. Just like everything else, it fit perfectly.

Annabeth was grinning at him as he edged back into the lobby. "Okay, now we're properly undercover. So, I've got a rather short trip planned, but make sure to act like a tourist, okay? Gawk at everything and look like you'd easily get lost and, most importantly, yap a lot." She gave him a meaningful look. She was going to press him for answers, he supposed. He didn't know what else there was, he'd said his whole backstory with all his mistakes and gave her a good look into all of his horrible thoughts now, but she never stopped with the questions.

They headed out from the building and Annabeth confidently led him to the nearest bus station. Before he could move, she had bought his ticket. "No need to thank me," she said, holding it out. "I need to use up my money so the company will grant me another one."

He was pretty sure that wasn't how it worked, but it wasn't like he ever held one of those unlimited metro cards. Though since she was Annabeth, the whole company probably had some special deal just for her.

The buses rolled over in front of them, and everyone around them made a mad scramble for the door. Annabeth shook her head at him. "Nope, we don't know how to get in like the rest of them, remember?"

He sighed and waited him turn, stumbling through just as the glass doors folded behind him. He fed in his ticket and leaned against a pole, steadying himself with each curve. "How many stops?"

She grinned. "It's a surprise, remember?"

He rolled his eyes. He didn't really see a point in surprises, but he would go along with them.

Annabeth planted both feet facing him. They weren't going to get a silent ride. "First of all, I hate to have to say this, but I think you need to take medication, Percy. I don't want you to hurt yourself, and you can't fight depression when your body feels like it belongs there. I know, there are some messed-up side effects, but I picked the better one." She tilted her head. "I've tried a lot of them, so I think it'll be okay with you."

She let him stand quietly as he pondered this in shock. Why would she need anti-depressants? Was she some success story?

"But are you okay with taking it? If you don't think you can handle a drug, that's fine."

"Um, I don't know."

"You don't have to agree straightaway, but I suggest you get on it soon. It might take some time to adjust to, but you should be able to handle it."

"Okay."

Annabeth sighed and stared at the ground. She really didn't like doing all the speaking. "One thing, before you say yes. I'm going to have to monitor how much you take. Not in detail, but you need two a day. I'm sorry. We both know that getting hooked is out of our control. Will you still be fine with it?"

"Yes. I won't mind." That did sound promising. Clearly he needed it, anyway.

And then she lifted her head. They were going back to normal. "What are your greatest regrets? Or what are the things you wished you didn't try?"

His greatest regret, of course, was not saving his mother. But he didn't even try for that one. "Well, um, asking out this one girl." He stared at the speckled floor and felt his cheeks warm up. Was he seriously discussing this with Annabeth?

"And what happened?"

"Well, eventually she told me she didn't think we belonged together. And it also hurt my relationship with another friend. This other girl." Honestly, Percy didn't think he belonged with Rachel either. But it still hurt to hear it aloud.

"How was it damaged?"

"She knew that it wasn't going to work out, and I refused to believe that. I kind of started avoiding her, pretending I didn't know her. And I ignored basically everything she told me before. I actually agreed with her, but I didn't want it to be true." He let out a breath. He didn't believe he said that.

"She was your best friend, right?"

Percy blinked but Annabeth raised her eyebrows at him. "You said it before."

It was disconcerting how she listened. He wasn't used to it.

"Yeah. I shouldn't have tried."

Annabeth didn't argue with that, which he was grateful for. "Okay. Anything else?"

"Trying to make friends on the streets. They were good people, it was just that I got them killed." In the loud noise and chatter on the bus, he doubted anyone else heard him, though they probably would've shrugged him off as another weird tourist. Annabeth heard everything, he knew, but she nodded, unruffled. "Did you know them well?"

"Yeah."

"What do you miss most about them?"

He looked away as he thought. "As a whole, their company. How they helped fill a space, and surrounded me, keeping me out of danger. How they could still laugh and joke and comfort no matter what happened."

Annabeth's eyes glazed into shiny gray marbles for a moment. "Sounds like a nice family."

"Yeah, kind of."

She blinked out of her distantness. "Do you regret the time you got together?"

He bit his lip as his shoulders trembled slightly. "Yes," he said quietly.

"Would they agree with that, if they were still alive?"

She had a magical lie detector, so he didn't bother responding.

"If your friends cared about you, they wouldn't hate you for an accident. They shouldn't hate you." Annabeth quieted down slightly.

Percy crushed his hands into fists. He was mad at himself for settling down and considering the idea that he wasn't responsible for taking the lives of his friends. He was, and he didn't deserve to let go of his guilt and take a breath. He didn't deserve to mourn. And it almost scared him, thinking that Nico could forgive him, just maybe. That would almost be like saying he deserved to forgive himself, and he couldn't. He was wrong, in pushing Reyna away and never speaking up for his mother. Now it was too late to take it back and it wasn't going to become right.

Suddenly it felt like all the energy in him was going to seep out and pour out on the dirty floor and push up against his new shoes. He sagged against the pole in the bus, even though it was hard and cold against his jutting hip bones, and glared at the floor. He wished he had someone to be mad at, and Annabeth was the obvious choice, but it wasn't that easy to be annoyed at her. She meant well and she literally threw all her time away for his taking. For goodness' sake, she picked him up from the street. Unintentionally, but she was willing to keep him.

He gritted his teeth painfully. It was so much easier to be numb. Anger always came and went like hot wind, leaving him empty, and if there was nothing to climb the roller coaster with, he would probably fall into a melting pit of sadness.

Of course it mattered that it was his fault he didn't walk up every morning to the smell of coffee brewing and his mom calling, "Percy? I made blue pancakes for you!" Of course it was only his fault that he never stepped into an art studio again, taking in the surge of turpentine and colors and Rachel. Of course he was the one that made Nico's chipper young face so tired and sad. And of course happy children with Silena's dark hair and Beckendorf's jaw were never going to be held in the arms of their dead parents.

He swore loudly in his head. He was going to cry on a public bus, dressed like a tourist.

Annabeth said softly, "Hey, we're here. Can we get off?"

He bit his lip hard as he nodded. His eyes were beginning to burn. It took him a moment to realize he was at Central Park. It sounded like someplace Annabeth would like to go.

Annabeth paused as they stepped onto the dirt road. "Here you go." Still resolutely staring ahead, she pulled a pair of sunglasses from her bag. "Keep them as long as you need."

A hybrid of a laugh and a groan and a sob almost tumbled past his lips. Annabeth hadn't looked at him once and she knew how he was about to cry.

He slipped the sunglasses on, with nothing better to do with them, and without his control, tears crashed out from his eyes. D*mn it, the salty tracks were coming down his face.

"I have a secret place here. It faces the lake. Come on." Annabeth strode off, ignoring everyone else, and they ignored her right back. Percy, wearing sunglasses in the middle of winter and still crying pretty obviously rushed back after her.

They came to the back of the park and suddenly veered off the road into the bush. Shoving the pointy branches out from his face, he crawled out to a rock jutting up from the lake. A weak ray of sun hit the spot, and small turtles were already sunning themselves in the shallows. They had a good view of all the other lakeshores filled with people, but it was probably hard to find them among the foliage.

Annabeth gestured for him to go first. He stepped out into the sun and sat down right by the edge. Annabeth didn't come up by him, and he saw that she had her back turned to him. "Is it okay if I play some music? You can do what you want."

"Um, yeah."

He didn't know what he was expecting, but a mix of instrumental and techno music flowed out from her phone, and it was loud. His tears were fighting with each other to squeeze from his eyes at the same time. He hunched over, trying to protect himself even if he was only exposed to the dark lake and the blissfully happy turtles. Crying always followed pain and led to only more.

The thoughts were rushing past too. He was willing to agree with Annabeth. It didn't matter if he caused it or not, not when he had to stop and really think about it. All that mattered was that the only people who loved him on Earth were gone in one way or another.

But he couldn't stop, and he could no longer think about anything, and he just kept sobbing silently. A small desperate gasp of pain choked out from him, but it was lost into the twangy guitar solo. He faced off with his fear once more, of being ridiculed and laughed at and abandoned, and it stole the breath from him for a moment before the tears rushed back, careless of whatever he felt. He wasn't silent anymore.

And then before he knew it, he was asleep. Out like a lamp.

-line break-

Before long, they were back on the streets. He could've ran side by side with heart monitor-strapped joggers in his retreat from Central Park. As they wandered more streets and dunked underground into the subway, Percy was trying not to imagine Annabeth calling his name into his ear, over and over, to get him to wake up. And also her smile when she said, "Trust me, if I knew you had no other obligations, I would've taken you back to the guest bedroom inside the building." He almost walked into a signpost at the thought of her holding him bridal-style down a busy intersection.

"We're almost there," Annabeth murmured as they climbed up the narrow green-painted stairs, the winter light flashing weakly through his sunglasses. She didn't ask for them, and he was too embarrassed to hand them back, especially with all the puffiness that was sure to still hang around his eyes. It made him an easy target because the tracks of his tears could be spotted a mile away.

Reyna always told him to have no weaknesses. He wasn't as invincible as her so faking it was the next best thing. But she did clearly have one. She was willing to jump in the middle of a fight to drag him out, even if she could get hurt in the process. The random members from another gang, or his, that picked him for a beating could never take on Reyna, but he knew the exact places on her hands where she got nicked or where she was bruised, even though she always covered herself up thoroughly. He felt terrible that her older sister had-well, presumably, abandoned her and he who she took under her wing as an apprentice training to survive or maybe, just maybe, a brother, still got her hurt so many times.

Percy looked up and stopped in his tracks. How did Annabeth manage to surprise him even though he knew this street like the back of his hand? Every New Yorker did. Their crown jewel, a tourist attraction to rival Lady Liberty, the Empire State Building.

Annabeth winced slightly next to him. "We're kind of in the middle of holiday break. I tried to pick someday less busy, but it looks like we'll have to face a line."

They shuffled in with their similarly-dressed kind and embarked onto an elevator. Percy poked his neck above the crowd inside to watch the digital numbers flurry as swanky elevator music played from invisible speakers.

The doors first let them out on the 86th floor, which was filled with sepia-toned photos of construction on the building and long paragraphs arranged by dates. Annabeth shook her head and gestured for him to go to a door in the side wall. Seriously? Another surprise? Was everyone going to turn out to be a flash mob or something?

She actually took him inside a colorful stairwell. "Visitors are welcome to use this too, but the new elevator going to the top floor is more flashy and impressive. Are you ready to go up six floors?"

That was barely his commute every day to get back to his bed. They limbered up and she filled him up on what he was missing. "This was named the Empire State Building because New York used to be the Empire State. It was a huge project that was finished in record time; it only took 20 months and approximately four and a half stories were built per week.

"Around the start of this buildings' opening, though, it was not a great economic success. Only around 20 percent of this building was originally used, and it was nicknamed the 'Empty State Building.' But eventually, around the end of World War II, business began picking up."

They passed another tourist couple who looked their they traveled the world for their honeymoon and was doing it again for their anniversary, and they nodded at each other like they were on the same boat or something. Easily surpassing their rheumatic knees, Percy and Annabeth moved up another flight and she continued on about the architecture. Percy unconsciously found his mind wandering. Why did he think "another"? Was he—no, did they look like they were dating? He'd only known Annabeth for a few weeks now, despite how they were basically friends, if this situation hadn't been so weird. He didn't think he was actually at the extent where he could like-or love someone, but he was wondering what this relationship was. How could she care about him? What did she even get paid for?

He stumbled to stop before a door and realized Annabeth had stopped talking. She grinned at him, but it was friendly, not teasing. "Okay, we're at the top floor. You ready to go through?"

He nodded, his cheeks flushing. His street senses were getting dull, and he didn't even hear her go quiet. Reyna would disapprove, just like with everything else.

"Well, you open the door." Annabeth stepped back.

Surprised and wary, he pushed it open, letting it close behind her. The top floor was a circle of glass windows that opened into a narrow wraparound standing space on the outside. Signs pointed out popular locations in New York and it was packed with people, like the subway just before the dinner rush.

Annabeth slipped through the crowd and edged outside, taking the lead again. She pushed around to finally secure a spot by the rails and he stood in place next to her. He could see the icy gray Hudson River rushing along, hugging the city packed with buildings and people. To the side, there was a giant green square that was Central Park, where they just were, and small flashy street must've been Times Square off to the side. He shivered slightly at the wind and the sight.

Annabeth reached into her bag and handed him a small thermos. He unscrewed the top and the smell of coffee flooded them both. He didn't have to look hard to see that it was blue. The foamy letter was "r." He silently sipped.

Annabeth stared out into the city, her eyes unreadable. "I brought you up here to show you your city in a different way. It's a huge place. It's easy to get lost in, and to disappear without anyone ever finding out."

He let the drink melt on his tongue. It was like a chocolate mocha or something.

"Those I can guarantee. All the positive stuff that comes next," she shrugged, "that strikes like lightning. You can fall in love with the art, the culture, the diversity. You can grow with the city, enjoy its liveliness and all the things that are happening. Well, there is one more thing I think will stay the same, unless there's an apocalypse." She smirked to herself. "All the people. New York has an estimated 20 million people, living right here."

He raised an eyebrow over the steam dancing up from his thermos. There was definitely positivity coming his way. Or so he thought.

"That's it, though. They could all be terrible and snooty and lacking manners, except a good portion are infants so that's not completely possible. Some of them could have some a light inside or something along those lines but perhaps you never find them. Or you do but you never get to know them. And maybe you meet the best people in the world and it turns out they're still human. There's nothing to guarantee about any of that. It's all your choice."

She turned and locked eyes with him. "If you don't try, don't seek, don't allow yourself to get hurt, you can stay that way. No one should force you to do otherwise. But if you're willing to accept, to learn, to be hurt, to open up, you'll find that there's something so much better about doing life with another person. Nothing should stop that either."

The last bit of his coffee he knocked back. There were no gritty grounds or powder or anything. It was an amazing drink.

He nodded and handed the thermos back. "Thank you."

"Oh, I've done nothing." She grinned. "But I do believe you have to get back. Do you have any dinner plans?"

-line break-

On the subway back home, he was so numb he could barely feel the cold. Maybe it was a fake numb he invented to hold back his emotions further. He didn't want to explore how he felt. But either way, it stuck all the way through the ride.

The way back was so familiar he navigated them without thinking and came up to Grover's door. It smelled warm and cheesy inside. Was Grover cooking?

Grover opened the door with a familiar goofy smile. "Hi, Percy!" And then he sobered up a little as he looked at him closer. "Hey, you're looking a little rough. You… okay, man?" he asked cautiously.

He pursed his lips. "Kind of." He would be, eventually.

Juniper came to the door. "Percy, hi. Haven't been seeing you recently. Well, I leave you two to it. I hope you like lasagna."

Percy blinked. His lips moved before he could think. "No, you should stay."

Grover and Juniper glanced at each other quickly. Their eyes almost seemed brighter just be looking at one another. "No, no, of course not." Juniper laughed quickly. "We both want you here."

"No, I mean, if you don't mind having me around, you should eat some of the dinner you just made." He didn't even know what he was saying, he didn't bother to stop himself. Thoughts of how they didn't want to be around him and how he was totally going to be left out after this he pushed away for the moment. For the first time in a while, he looked his fear the face and it didn't win out, even if he fell asleep. He was going to bask in that.

"No, really?" Grover cut in. He had a hesitant smile on.

"Yeah." He was telling the truth.

Juniper beamed hugely and made a move to hug him, but Grover quickly put a stop to that. They headed off towards the kitchen, were the smells of bubbling tomato paste and cheese and basil grew stronger. Only as they made it towards Grover's scratched dining table he did realize he was still wearing Annabeth's shoes.

**I can't believe how late I'm writing this. And I'm not actually tired, so uh, yeah, that's weird. I guess vacation is for taking naps on. Anyway, thanks for reading, I know this has been slightly weird and confusing from the start. I also need help figuring out what's going on.**

**Review Replies:**

**Fenris55: Okay, wow, someone who has actually been following my slow updates? Thank you so much. Yeah, I'm kind of just mixing in Riordan's characters randomly, and I'll introduce the rest later, but thanks. It was very nice of you to call this relationship interesting 'cuz it's really weird, I know, but it will be a pretty slow burn. About helping them both, though, you'll just have to see. *evil laughter***

**Pingalu2: Thanks for taking your time to write a review! That was really encouraging to get me to write. (Even though I've been so slow.) I know a lot of these chapters haven't been up to par but I'm working on it. Happy belated holidays to you too!**

**Au revoir,**

**Pride-and-loyalty**


	7. Chapter 7

**I am writing this literally a day after my last chapter. This is breaking records. Even though I have homework on break…? I know, it's weird. For the people out there though, sorry for terribly long wait for every chapter before.**

**And of course, thanks to TotallyNerdy, the most efficient beta reader ever.**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: Marshmallows in today's version is made in France during the 1800s, where the mallow plant's components were egg whites and sweetener. They also expand inside a vacuum because of air bubbles inside them._

"Percy? Dude, what are you doing?" Percy blinked to see Connor bending down and peering at him strangely.

He rubbed a hand down his face, trying to wipe away his empty expression. "Um, nothing. I'll get back to work." He hurriedly began restocking the shelves of once-use razors and plastic-wrapped toothbrushes as Connor shrugged and went back to whatever odd job they were assigned around the place. From the sounds of it, hammering up the magazine rack, which was probably the most popular area in the whole store. Pike didn't even bother hiding the more illicit pages behind Home Gardening and World Sports from the teenagers.

He liked his relationship with the others that worked at Freidman's. Well, as much as he could like their brief interactions every day. Grover generally snuck comics under the front counter and read them until a customer wandered inside, and the Stolls wandered around, cleaning things up, arranging the prices and sales that Pike didn't bother doing, and getting away with as much petty theft they could. They left Percy well alone, unless he was doing something particularly strange like staring into space for a while. Connor didn't ask him if he was okay like every other person, and didn't even reach for his basically-empty wallet, which he was grateful for. Once Percy emptied his box, he straightened up and headed for the staff room, his jumpsuit flapping around his stiff legs. But he'd been wrangling with it for a while, and he didn't really care anymore how he looked or felt in it.

The to-do list Pike had left hanging in the wall of the dim changing room was still waiting for him. He settled the empty crate in the pile by the wall and skimmed the stained piece of paper again. There were rarely any new additions, and once he was done with unpacking the new goods, he had to file everything into the inventory. Everything, he'd heard yelled into his ear many times.

Grabbing his trusty scanner, Percy delved into the back row, with the terrible snacks and scented tissue paper and the horribly cheap tampons. He picked up the first cardboard tissue box, scanned it, set it aside, and picked up the identical one behind it. It wasn't a job that was payed for any thinking required. He just had to do this to all of the items and double check their data on the store's computer in Pike's office, which he also had to wipe after using. Soon, he was losing himself in his motions, listening to the pages of Grover's comic flapping and the hammering the Stolls were doing. Normally he wasn't thinking about anything, or the dullest stuff in the world, but it had been five days and nine hours since he'd touched heroin. He missed it like a lover he was hopelessly enamored in. And for some reason, whenever he was longing for something, he only supplemented that hole with more things he longed for. His mother came first to mind. Her flowing hair ran through with gray streaks, still so full and thick. Her rough fingers that brushed wrinkles so easily from his face. And how her bright smile would still be the same in the kitchen, where they ended up hiding together every day after he got back from school. The plastic taste of taffy and rock candy, all bright blue, soured inside his throat.

He was young when he lost her. Not young enough to forget the pain, but also too young, too far away. His mother faded every day. And there was no other way to keep her alive on Earth, so all he could do was commit every blurring detail about her to memory. How her temples wrinkled if she laughed hard enough. The scrunches her blueberry pancakes sometimes had on the edges when she poured too much batter into the skillet. How she always slept with her arms wide open, like she was dreaming of flight, or just waiting for him to snuggle into his chest. And the way her voice lilted every time she was calling him to wake up for school, like she wouldn't mind letting him sleep in if he really wanted to. But he could barely remember other things, and as tightly as he tried to hold onto them, and he knew that he couldn't keep all of her forever. Whenever he tried to imagine how the pancakes tasted, all that he could think of was cement or glue. And her favorite set of blankets that she loved to curl up under, what did they even look like?

The jingle of the doorbell made him blink. He forced himself to focus on the pens he was holding in his hand. Scan, scan, scan. Stack, stack, stack. He hated routine, and he only ever had routine, but routine still kept him together to some extent.

An itch was running up his arms again as he moved back onto the spray cans. He wanted to set down everything and ferociously scratch himself, but the guests were moving his way. He had no dignity to pick himself up from his sprawl on the linoleum floor, but yanking up his sleeves and clawing at his bare arms had driven away multiple customers in the past. They preferred him to invisibly continue doing the same thing: scan, scan, scan, shelve, shelve, shelve. Just like everyone else.

"Hey, Percy," one of the twins hissed in his ear. "Can you play around with the database a little later? This shelf is lacking a whipped cream can."

He nodded. There was no point in protesting, except that he would get fired for assisting in robbery against the shop itself. But he didn't particularly care. Maybe he'd find another mindless routine to fit into. The Stolls used to bribe him for covering up their tracks, but then he found out that they had been picking the money out from the pockets of their payers. Now he wished that he didn't put to a stop to it, and at least could be fired with a chance of getting high sooner.

"Thanks, bro." Travis thumped him on the shoulder, and they grinned at the customers before getting back to the magazine rack. He didn't know if it was a threat of getting beat up, but it didn't really matter. If he was more naïve, he would think they were friends and that the twins were being nice to him, but they probably just wanted someone around to keep helping them out.

The customers finally left, by the sound of Grover's released breath and the frantic flipping of his comic book pages. He raised his eyebrows at his friend. It was a bit weird around his Grover after all the times he'd discussed him with Annabeth, and all the expectations he'd assumed she was holding on to about them, but generally he acted the same. Except that he sometimes bombarded their dates with his awkward presence.

Grover shrugged. "They just grabbed a few packs of gum and a bottle of hand sanitizer."

They were probably new to this area and wanted to keep themselves clean. _News flash, germs aren't the only things lurking around here_, he thought sardonically. He really didn't bother with whoever came into their "grocery" and began scanning the bar codes on the Saran-wrapped sticks of asparagus, being careful to rearrange them so that the browning ones were in the back.

He was getting closer and closer to the magazines, and he suddenly noticed something tucked into Travis' back pocket. It was a neatly folded handkerchief, something he didn't expect Travis would keep. It caught his eyes because the color and the paisley pattern on it looked familiar. He set down the bag of chips in his hand.

He'd seen the exact same one wrapped around Katie's wrist when he visited her home. It had a dark red stain creeping up the side, but for all of her hand-waving, he remembered it well.

It's just the same pattern, he told himself. Scan, scan, scan, stack. Some chips crumbled under his grip and he winced.

Travis turned around with a raised eyebrow. "What's the matter, Jackson? Why are you checking out my backside?" His face splintered into a grin and he high-fived his twin brother.

He didn't shift his expression. "No, I was just wondering about that cloth in your pocket." He bit his lip. He'd gotten too used to blurting things out with Annabeth.

Travis cocked his head. "This rag?" he asked, pulling it out. "What's so special about it?"

He set down the chip bag and studied it without trying to appear so interested. "Nothing. Why do you have one?"

"We fix up cars in our free time, Jackson. We need something to wipe up the car grease."

"Is that a grease stain, Stoll?"

Travis flung it at him, and he scrambled to catch it. His reflexes were so dull these days. "'Course not, there was a mess in my kitchen. Happy?"

The stain was the same shape. He blinked and stared at Travis' hand. He didn't know why he cared, but he wanted to know what was happening. There was no ring on his long, deft fingers. But either Annabeth or Katie said husband.

He was just going to come out with it. He had nothing to lose. "You're married to a woman named Katie Gardener and you have a baby boy at home, don't you?"

Travis and Connor flashed startled looks at each other. Slowly, Travis' trademark smug grin returned. "Actually, no, she's a Gardner. But she gets that a lot because of her half-sister Miranda Gardener."

Percy felt a bit like sitting down, he didn't think his legs would support him. He didn't know he could figure it out so suddenly.

Miranda found him in the hospital and he was only seeing Annabeth because Travis was having a kid at the same time. If he wasn't unconscious, he would've probably heard his coworker's voice a few times in the hallway.

Grover also blinked at them from the register, he clearly noticed that Percy was getting agitated. He gave Travis a once-over and shook his head, clearly disbelieving of his capabilities as a father.

"How exactly did you figure that out, Investigator Jackson?" Travis asked, taking back the handkerchief and tucking it in his pocket, messily this time. It must've been Katie that folded the neat triangle.

He wasn't going to reveal exactly how. "I just heard a bit around, met a few people that knew her. I did visit her once."

Travis nodded knowingly. "Ah, you were the guest that ate all the cake."

He felt the warm edges of embarrassment probe his heart. Grover was exaggeratedly eyeing his comic, clearly pretending to not listen.

"Well, you proud father, we've still got work," Connor said, elbowing his brother in the gut.

Percy turned away too and picked up some candy bars. Routine didn't always stay the same.

-line break-

It was probably midnight when Annabeth asked him, "Hey, do you want something to drink?"

He clutched the blanket around himself tighter. She told him young girls running away from arranged marriages and their families after them for an 'honor kill' made it in a safe center in Afghanistan. It wasn't the most comforting thing to hold, but having something over his head did make him feel more secure.

He wanted to respond yes, he wanted a drink. As in real alcohol. But she wasn't going to hand him any. "I think I'm fine. I don't want to visit the bathroom so late at night."

She laughed a little, startling him. That wasn't intended to be funny. "Okay. Are you warm enough?"

Annabeth met him in a subway station near his place and immediately handed him a coat and a pair of gloves. Her office was still warm compared to the rest of the building, but she pulled out a basket of stray branches from the lobby pine and started a little fire in a grate inside her wall. She carried in some armchairs from another room close by—the rest of Half-Blood Hill Co. was completely dark at this hour, but somehow she moved around effortlessly while he was stumbling up the stairs—and set a slice of heated berry pie next to him. Percy didn't touch it. He didn't want her to clothe him and feed him. What was next, him living under her roof?

"Yes, warm enough."

"Thank you."

Her teeth flashed brightly in a smile. "I like having company when it's just me at night."

His fingers grazed his chin. He closed his eyes. "This-all this is nice." He sounded so stilted.

She cocked her head, her eyes flashing almost bronze in the firelight. "Do you need a distraction?"

Percy nodded thankfully. He wondered how obvious was it that he wanted to scratch himself again. "Yeah, kind of."

"Can I just talk, then?" She grinned suddenly. "Actually, can I tell you stories from the past?"

He shrugged, trying to not looked excited. Of course, he wanted to hear that. "Sure."

She lifted up a cup of apple cider to her lips. The steam created a fine dusting of rain on her face that she grinned through. "The best coffee is at room temperature, because the flavor gets more developed, and to keep up the façade of a log cabin I need something hot," she explained, gesturing to her drink.

He could smell the cinnamon from his spot. The best way to have that pretense is to keep him from it. Washed-up heroin addicts didn't normally go skiing on winter break. But he nodded, sitting on his hands.

"When I was small, I always did a bunch of stupid things. My father and mother were both extremely smart, so I figured I could break up the monotony some. I loved hiding under the cupboards, since I was really good at being completely silent, and my mother always braced the bowl of cookie batter against her stomach when she stirred. She made cookies every few weeks, usually in the afternoons so they would rise nicely, so I would stake my place there after lunch and wait silently until she came over. It was the best timing since Mother thought I was napping, and usually she was away in her study. If I waited for any later, she'd hear me as she read in the living room. Whenever Mother added anything new to the bowl, she would tilt it slightly. After the milk and the sugar were in, the batter was at its best taste, unless there was chocolate to come. Then I only had a slim window for tasting. I only allowed three fingers to reach so the chances of being spotted were smaller, and sorry for boring you here with the details, I'll grab a small ball from the edge, stuff it into my palm, and smooth the surface of the cookie dough with my fingers. I ate it immediately. It was hard to wait, and always better to get rid of the evidence."

Percy twitched slightly, his body subconsciously trying to pull his hands up so they could scratch his neck. It wasn't stupid at all. She clearly was an incredibly smart child to plot out everything so systematically.

"I usually only got a couple of bites in as she was folding up the dough, and when she scooped balls onto the baking sheet I was pretty much out of time. The only luck I had was that she sometimes pinched off the tops of the balls and stuck that extra bit back into the bowl, and if I took off a bit of that piece I could still mimic the finger indentations. The biggest issue I had was that my hands were still greasy, so I couldn't touch a single thing as I was sneaking back to my room. But I learned that the hard way, since one day my mother had went back to her book as the cookies were baking, and I unfolded myself from under the counter and took the long way around her, and I'd left fingerprints everywhere, on the hallway walls, over the counter, and up the stair rails. Mother made me go outside and help Father clean his models of Civil War airplanes, and after he'd instructed me on everything and watched me go through half of them, he receded to the corner to fix one of his tiniest pieces with a damaged wing from the last time our station wagon backed out of the garage. He stored all the small ones in his personal playroom while his prized possession, a life-sized model he built himself, stood out on the driveway, sunning itself or so he said. I was worried about the sun bleaching off all the shine he'd so dutifully painted, but I kept my hands to myself and kept polishing. I didn't have to worry about it for long, though, because as soon as Mother lifted the cookies out from the oven the electricity was out in a crackle of lightning. The rain couldn't even be heard inside Father's heavily-padded walls. I went away to pull food from the fridge and gather candles while Father ran straight for his darling plane. It was extremely troublesome as one of the wheels were broken and it was just sitting up on bricks so he had to carrying in the bricks one by one and then lift up the whole thing. Mother had everything together inside so I was sent outside into the rain to help him lift it. I thought the trees down the street would be hazardous, so I had the idea of yanking off overbearing branches and rolling the plane over them, like the Egyptians did in transporting blocks of limestone for the pyramids, and I thought that would be killing two birds with one stone. So, I left Father to the bricks and ran to our poplar. I did not succeed in gathering a single branch, though I was right in my prediction. Lightning hit right by our tree. I ran for the house, but Father coerced me into lifting, and eventually Mother came outside, and we delicately placed it back into the garage. When we changed and mopped up the puddles left all over the house, Mother stirred up a foul concoction in cold water and pushed it into my hands. 'I don't think all of the medicinal effects will be retained but alas I am not sparing our well-being for makeshift Bunsen burners with candles,' she told me, or something like that. It was ginger tea—kind of, with a pinch of brown sugar to take out the rawness. It was a well-know remedy to keep away a cold. Actually, being cold and wet doesn't necessary cause sickness, but more because of bacteria in the environment. Anyway, that was a terrible night, but we got to eat cookies and read by candlelight, which my antiquated father always wanted to do, and we got the power back on in the morning." She took a long sip of cider.

Percy pulled the afghan tighter around him and kept his hold on the fabric. He didn't really feel itchy, but sometimes he would scratch himself without thinking about it. Annabeth's family was not the cardboard American dream successors he thought they were, but they still seemed like the kind that would still stick together and everything at the end of the day. Though they were clearly the "extra special" type with their intelligence.

"Okay, I've thought of one from later on. I was in my sophomore year at college, and I was invited to another dorm building for a study session. It was winter vacation, but my parents were pretty busy then and I didn't want to close which home to go to. We were luckier than the freshies, because the rooms were bigger this year, but we were still stuck with a roommate. My friend's roommate had a few friends over that immediately turned into a rowdy party with a minibar. We huddled together on her bed, earbuds plugged in to listen to classroom lectures on YouTube, but we could barely focus with the dimmed lights, loud music, and every few stray dances banging into the bed and occasionally falling over us on purpose. My friend was one of the less nerdy of my group, and when an indie rock song came on she abandoned her chem textbook and yanked me up, dragging me to dancing. I found out that the conscious and generally sober members of the group were fairly agreeable and they let me watch them pour some pineapple juice for me, and it didn't taste like the few sips of alcohol I'd had before. We basically chatted about all kinds of random things before I got tired, since I used to sleep pretty early, and I headed back to my dorm. The next day, I had an headache and was worrying about being hungover, but my friend in med school checked my vitals and said I was probably 'overexcited' from staying up late and drinking something so sugary. She also told me to 'take it easy' before falling over in laughter."

Percy had to smile a little. He never went to college, though he'd circulated quite a few parties with his plastic bags, and it was obvious that Annabeth wouldn't stand it there.

"Believe it or not, it wasn't my last party. I learned quite a bit about bartending in my graduate years, and I had some of a talent for tabletop dancing. I was actually semi-famous for that, probably since I was one of the few that did it with clothes on."

Percy cocked his head. "No way," he blurted. Annabeth had her head ducked, staring down at her cup, and she smiled bashfully when she looked up.

"I wasn't any good at it. I'm just bringing it up because it's the sad highlight of my wild life."

Percy folded his legs, and not to hide his fidgeting. "Really?"

"Well, I took dancing lessons as a little girl. It's more like my dark history."

It wasn't anything like his dark history, but he didn't know how to take this. Whatever his expectations for Annabeth were, she didn't follow them. She clearly could be comfortable around anyone if she wanted to. "I just find it a little hard to imagine." His mouth was running away without his mind.

Annabeth sighed and grinned at him. "I'm going to ruin the campfire/log cabin effect right now." She got up and flicked a light switch so a few rosy lightbulbs lit up above her desk. She pushed aside her papers, slid aside her laptop, and kicked off her shoes. Percy imagined that if he was watching her at that kind of party, a little high from secondhand weed smoke and a few drinks, he would've probably whistled. Her socks were striped and had little gray reindeer on them. She fidgeted with her speaker system and found a rhythmic tango song. After a deep breath, she stepped on the table and just moved with the beat. It was pretty simple dancing, just moving her hips and twirling her arms. When the chakras came on, she stopped and fluttered her hands. It was probably a move that drew drunken giggles, and he had to swallow his irrational laughter. It was kind of just how serious she looked, though she had an awkward, unbelieving smile on and shook her head at herself a few times, but how she was willing to dance around on her table.

Percy clapped a little when she got off. She slid her feet back into her shoes. "Honestly, I don't know why anybody finds that interesting. But I hope I did a good job of distracting you."

Percy blinked, coming to his senses. She was putting a lot of work into getting him at ease. He couldn't believe he was here at midnight, and his therapist was basically entertaining him. She didn't mind it at all, as he kept reminding himself, she wasn't even paid for spending time with him. And it worked perfectly. The ghost of an itch still lingered in a few places, but he was much more focused on what she would do next than on his need for scratching, and for another high.

"Um, yeah," he stuttered. "I can see why that was enjoyed so much." He wanted to slap himself for such a weird compliment, but Annabeth laughed and nodded at him. She understood him, as usual.

"It feels good to pretend, at least."

He nodded. He tried his best to do that around "normal" people, and of course he had to act clean around Pike. Sometimes he could almost convince himself.

Something nagged at him, a question he couldn't exactly place his finger on, and then he recalled what Annabeth said. "Why weren't you home again during break?" It was almost like their normal roles were reversed, now that he was questioning her.

Annabeth took a sip of cider. "Well, my parents were both pretty busy with their lives, and I didn't know which one to visit during the holiday. They got divorced when I was in fifth grade. My father remarried when I was in sixth, so he had my twin half-brothers to take care of, and my mother's company was finally gaining traction in the stock market and it was becoming a pretty big deal."

"Oh. I-I didn't know." He debated internally on whether or not to say he was sorry. But it was a weird situation between them.

She shrugged. "Well, I'll just lay it straight out for you. Honestly, they didn't entirely belong together, and I always saw them as separate, so that wasn't the sting. It was just going between houses, and my step-mother didn't like me very much, but I was stuck with her for most of the time when Mother got too busy. I was feeling abandoned at one point so I ran away and had a stint by staying out on the streets for a year with these strangers I'd met."

Annabeth didn't grow up perfectly, he realized. "Is there a lesson for me in here?" he asked quietly.

"Well, I prefer to say we're getting to know each other, but yeah, you're allowed to learn something." She was still ambiguous as always. Annabeth didn't push him to speak up again and drank more of her cider. "I'm running a little low," she murmured. "Would some hot cocoa entice you? I've got chocolate shavings, whipped cream, and marshmallows, big and small."

Percy paused for a long while, but she didn't interrupt the awkward silence. "Um, can you make it blue?"

"Of course." She got up. "I've tried to whip up some natural dye over the weekend, so it'll taste a little fruity, but I can cover it up with some extra chocolate." She went over to the kitchenette, which was right beside the fireplace, and began heating up some milk on her electric burner. She was keeping quiet as she moved things around, like she was waiting to hear what he had to say.

He was trying to avoid following the train of his thoughts, because he didn't want to think too hard and because he could guess what was going to be the result. But he knew that Annabeth would ask him for it eventually sometime later in the morning and part of him wanted to figure it out anyway. So he plunged into his questions. Whatever she said about seeing her parents apart, they formed a perfect family unit. He guessed that when her father remarried it was probably to a younger woman, if they had twins in their first year together. Those odd couples were usually hard to like if they involved your parents. And he could gamble his fund for his next needle that Annabeth's step-mother was not of the same level of intelligence as them. He'd seen a lot of second-marriages within his foster families, and that woman didn't even like Annabeth. Was that even natural? Suddenly he felt his cheeks heating up, so he quickly moved on. Annabeth was basically edged out by an intruder, and whatever she found on the streets got her to gang up with strangers. Most unloved, defiant runaways kept to themselves. He didn't even want to join Clarisse's gang, but it was that or get beat up. And because Reyna's brief glance at him told him there was strength in numbers. After all that, Annabeth somehow got into college? And it sounded like a fairly nice one, if there was enough Wi-Fi in the dorms to watch videos. And now she was a rich CEO of a fancy upper crust company? And she seemed to be the most mentally healthy person ever?

A mug was plunked on a sea glass coaster next to his pie. A cheery little candy cane leaned against the edge. "That's just for decoration, and for stirring, since we're getting close to the holidays. But if you're a fan of peppermint, it'll eventually melt if you let it sit in there." Her cup, stuffed to the brim with marshmallows, had the same cane. He took a sip and felt warmth speed through his body.

"Annabeth, can I ask a question?"

She nodded, lowering her mug.

"How did you get here?"

She studied him. "What exactly do you mean by 'here'?"

"Like, successful, wealthy, happy."

She didn't laugh or contradict him. She took a thoughtful sip of her hot cocoa, the marshmallows bobbing against her lip. "Well, basically I just interned for a lot of top-level guys, and through some friends and promotions I earned success. The money is worked for, saved up with. But I'm guessing you want to know about happiness the most. I don't really know how it happened. It just that I realized that there's a lot of good in life and a lot of bad and I just have to find the good. I'm happy when I do. But it's no formula or anything. Why are you asking?"

"You didn't not have a magical childhood." He shook his head.

"Well, neither did you," she added gently.

"But you're the one helping people and I'm the one getting therapy! Did you just help yourself with positive thinking?"

"No. No way." She chewed on a marshmallow. "More like a choice to do something about life. But you are right, what happened to you before and what's happening now is something you can help yourself with. Your childhood does not define you, and neither do your actions, because they're all in the past. You're in the present, Percy." She said softly.

"It's left a permanent mark, Annabeth. I can't lose some of these things."

"Me neither," she said quietly. "But it's part of you, and you still choose what you do. At least, you're capable of choosing."

He breathed out slowly. He didn't want her to have such high expectations of him, that he could eventually bring himself to a good place. He wasn't going to meet them, no matter how wondrous they sounded. And then he felt something shaking inside his body. Another tsunami, wild and stiff, with a small eye in the center. It was struggling fiercely with the waves to get wider and wider. It was hope, again, reeled in by fear, but it was there. If that choice was really there… an ability to finally get out of this sh*t, then that was enough for him.

She held out her mug, and he stared at it for a second before bringing his to it. They clinked softly, their candy canes shifting. "To more nights together, with hot chocolate to drink."

He drank to it.

**Yeah, okay, and this took me too long to finish. Or at least get myself to my computer. Well, at least this is my first-or second time I'm on schedule. Yay!**

**Review reply:**

**Justin: Hi, thanks for reviewing! Yeah, I know, I'm a terrible person. I'm so sorry for the wait. I'll update regularly from now on for you, sorry again . I hope this was worth waiting for.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi! This is going to get a little dark, but not a lot.**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: Around 30% of people share the issues of substance abuse and depression._

Percy thought he was fine. Well, of course, no one was really meant it when they said they were fine, but he'd been doing a little better. Looking forward to seeing Annabeth, getting his next cup of coffee. And not feeling so terrible around his friend.

It all went to nothing. When Percy first opened his eyes, it was like nothing had changed. And then the ever-present brightness of streetlights and neighbors and New York at night slipped into his gloomy corner. But everything else was dead. He checked his phone, rubbing his screaming retinas, and discovered it was 4:27. He'd really only slept for a wink. The guy working the night shift at Starbucks was probably out, but everyone else in the apartment must've been asleep.

It was weird, because he'd gotten home late last night after heading to a few parties. Oh, and visiting Annabeth. He had a nice time with her. But he still needed to ensure he still had savings.

Whatever. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes tightly, ignoring the vivid nightlights seeping into the cracks. He had no purpose in the morning, asleep or awake. Percy just laid there, letting every second inch past. Maybe his work performance would be worse, and Pike would blow up on him and then hire a monkey to replace him. But really, he knew how to shuffle and scan while he was high on heroin and half-asleep. Would anyone at work even notice?

And why would it matter if he lost his job?

Morning came with the frozen sun bundled up in gray clouds. It had barely gotten any lighter, so someone flicked on the twitchy fluorescent lightbulbs as everyone got up. He kept lying prone in his cot. Nothing had changed from when he woke up to now, he realized. Just like nothing changed from being asleep to waking up to the same nightmare.

Most days, he wished he could stay in bed and do nothing. Today was different, though. Nothing was moving him anymore. Not routine, not anyone's expectations, not a care about his own well-being. He didn't want anything anymore, and he wasn't going to do anything about it.

It was actually extremely freeing, not having anyone care about you or realize you were alive. If he'd still been a kid, his foster parents would've kicked him out of bed, and Clarisse would've yelled his ear off. And back then, he was always afraid another gang would find him. So he would drag himself off from the ground and keep following Reyna. Just always the same.

Well, one thing that was different was how he'd given up on caring. But making his life a mess; wasn't that staying the same?

He wasn't going to Freidman's, and he didn't need to find Annabeth today. She said that they technically didn't have a session, but he only needed to go if he wanted. Well, he didn't want to be taking up so much space by existing and breathing, so there was no way he wanted to take the long ride to see her and just talk about all his f**ked-up problems.

He pressed his cheek to the ground, feeling the grit and dirt against the thin fabric of his cot. It was cold enough to give him a small shiver. He didn't want to think about Annabeth right now.

He had no meaning. Even if humans were just randomly living on this earth, how could SUCH a big mistake like him even exist? He didn't belong here.

Percy let his thoughts spiral out for a bit, and then his skin crawled. Footsteps were coming closer. He rolled over to face the wall. Exhaustion spread like smoke in his lungs. He didn't want to be talking to anyone, to pretend, or get coerced into going back into a "healthy routine."

"D*mn. Percy?" It was Chris, as nervous and stilted as ever. "Hey, man, you okay?"

He didn't allow himself to think or feel at the moment. His silence apparently spoke bounds to Chris, and who was audibly swallowing.

"Okay, sorry, man. Is there anything I can do?"

Percy's ears suddenly sharpened. They'd been getting pretty dull, but he still remembered listening for danger when it was dark. There was irregular breathing next to Chris' slow exhales. Who else was there?

Eager to fill the silence, Chris muttered, "Harvey noticed you're still here and brought me over. Can I help? I have to leave for work soon."

Harvey? Percy's mind filled with panic, and a tinge of guilt. Why was he still…. what was this, looking out for him? This was so wrong. He needed to know that helping people hurt himself. He needed to be rejected harshly, physically if possible.

But, sh*t, this little kid was looking out for him. Why was there something inside of him that wanted to help him back somehow?

He wanted to protect Harvey from naivety. If he was living alone here, with a few siblings strewn around, far away from him, he needed to know wasn't going to be safe and happy, and that being hard would eventually get him out unscarred. To some degree.

It didn't matter. They were waiting for an answer. Percy hunched up his shoulders. "It's okay, I'm good. I'll go to work later." His voice sounded unused. He couldn't come up with a convincing lie right now.

"Yeah, okay, man. Um, take care. Bye." Chris shuffled away. Percy heard Harvey's breath hitch slightly, and then his softer footsteps were growing distant.

He let himself sink back onto the cold floor, and laid there, not-sleeping, not-awake.

-line break-

The hours ticked past. He distantly wondered if Pike was lost in a caffeine-induced haze, or if he was blowing up at the Stolls. If Grover was nervous and a little guiltily calling Juniper and whispering to her that they should meet up. Yes, he tried to accept the fact that his friend appreciated him and didn't see him as a pitiful nuisance, well, he wanted to accept it, but old habits were hard to shake. Annabeth couldn't just convince him of everything, could she?

He wasn't ashamed of himself anymore, either. Percy was a grown man, and sometimes he got a little thirsty. As time yawned on, he yearned for Rachel. He knew it was just the hormones in him, but it still felt real. Maybe she could give birth to children with cute freckles and frizzy hair and teach them how to make a difference in the world. Or maybe she could wrap her pale arms around him at night when he was by himself—but it didn't feel too good to imagine it. It was just fake, and he still ached all the more. It was easy to pretend that being with her would fill him up. Like she could curl up inside the huge hole inside of him, and he would be whole. But sometimes, when she was really there, the hole just got wider, and the ghost of her certainly wasn't solid enough.

The longing he could almost taste. It was salty like sweat and brief like sugar in the wind stroking his face and bitter enough to crush him. His imagination was getting wild and tried to grasp for Reyna, tried to pretend she would hold his face in her hands…

It didn't work. He never loved her romantically, and she, well, most of the time, found him as an entertaining newbie to keep under her wing. She cared for him at some point, apparently, when everything with Rachel blew over, but he didn't want to think about it. Then he would get back to feeling, and he didn't want to go down that road.

You're avoiding a lot today. You should be glad you're not with Annabeth, she would pry out your feelings. He wasn't glad, but not about anything else either.

His longing trickled away and guilt was knocking on the door. Did she want to see him today? She repeatedly said she enjoyed being around him, even if it was just to hear about his f**k-ups.

It didn't matter, did it? However much she cared about him, it wouldn't save him. Why waste energy being guilty for everything he no longer had any control over? He didn't have the energy to care about this anymore. Let everything fall apart around him. He wasn't going to sad or mad or ashamed or more of a mess than he already was.

He shoved away his thoughts. He didn't want to think. All of this, these messy emotions, was just making him itchier and itchier. He knew he was addicted. He knew it was unhealthy to need something so badly. He knew that his money from selling drugs was dishonest. And, of course, that if he bought as many grams as he was planning to it would damage his frail body.

But the thing he knew the most well was that he had to be high, or he was going to go off into the deep end.

If there was one thing he needed, one thing he cared about, it was heroin.

Percy dug into his safe and counted his money, the bills fumbling through his fingers and falling to the ground. He was shaking too hard to sit up properly, and he couldn't some to remember how a dealer was supposed to hide their money. He almost had enough. So close.

But you'll never really get there, will you? He wanted to scream. He knew that the partying season was getting low, and that he'd have to stake out a spot on the streets. But it'll be hard to find an empty one where rich people frequented, and it would be cold. Plus he'd have to move around his working hours, and Pike would get mad, and Grover would guess why and gaze at him with sad, disappointed eyes. But that was all nothing compared to the actual cold hard truth.

A high never lasted.

Percy had been chasing it for years. Since he became an adult, since he dropped out of a high school. He'd been a little more affluent once, when he put his mind to it. Sometimes, it was a shot a day, a piece of heaven every morning. That was something that could almost bring a smile to his lips. Even though Clarisse once charmingly told him that smile looked like sh*t. Still, that was a nice time.

But it was too distant. He could hardly imagine what it felt like. The only thing he remembered was staying up the whole night, waiting to yank open his drawer and pick up a spoon with shaking hands. And he also threw up a lot.

And now his brain was too scrambled and he'd fell into an easy routine, one he almost got comfortable with. Comfortably numb. It was like cement, it just closed around his ankles. The only thing that could keep him standing there forever was to visit another place. Even for a few minutes.

He was stuck in this loop forever; he knew that much. He would blow everything to get his new package, fly onto the moon, come crashing back down, and start digging through layers and layers of trash for something else to blow. It was hardly worth it. But it wouldn't get any better to quit.

Percy let out a slow breath and stared up at the ceiling. The plaster was cracking and it had a patchy mess of humidity-absorbing insulation or whatever that had frozen in winter. Everything was a dead green.

Really, what point was in this, anyway? If the purpose of life was to be happy, then he needed his mothers and his friends, alive. He did have a vague memory, one he always held up when he thought of joy. He didn't have many others. Blowing out a couple of melting candles on a bright-blue cake, getting handed a slice by a soft, tan hand, biting into the sweetness of the frosting. He wasn't sure if he made up the next part, after running it over in his mind so many times, by a younger delirious version of him sprawled in an alley, but the cake was actually ice cream, thick layers of vanilla and chocolate, and he just ran at it with his then-chubby fingers and crammed a messy chunk into his mouth. And hairs brushed his forehead—he didn't remember what they felt like, and someone told him to eat slower. He didn't remember the voice, and at this point he was already watching the memory like an outsider, distantly staring at a small boy crazily attacking his beautiful cake.

Yeah, he wasn't going to find happiness like that again, even if he reenacted that exactly. He couldn't even imagine why the boy would feel so happy. And if his purpose was to go out and make a difference somewhere, well, that's something he certainly did. By robbing the world of his mother's light, of Nico's smile, of the friendship and love Silena and Beckendorf knew, all of that. Anything good he did? He allowed some random person to enjoy a Floridian orange. (The crate was mostly empty the day after he set them out.) Oh, and he allowed some of his foster parents to feel good about themselves. All of his twenty-something years on Earth, those were probably his only contributions.

He didn't really feel any self-pity. He was just looking at the facts, and the conclusion was obvious. He was wasting the air by breathing it and transforming it into more carbon dioxide. Like a pollution factory or something.

At that point, even coming up with depressed thoughts was exhausting. He stopped and stared resolutely at the wall across from him. It did carry his most valuable possessions in the world as of now. He felt utterly drained, but for some reason he was still wide awake, just a little fogged up. Unable to concentrate on anything. Like livestock, entering a slaughterhouse with a smack to the head so they were numbed.

"Excuse me." A small voice broke into his thoughts. He almost jumped out of his skin. Flipping around, he saw it was Harvey. It was a weird position to have the little boy standing over him and he avoided his eyes as he pushed himself up.

Harvey was firmly staring at his feet. "Sorry, but can you bring me to the new winery?"

Percy was confused. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. He blurted the first thing that came to his mind. "What?"

"Can you walk with me? There's a new winery a few blocks away—"

"Yeah, I know. Why?"

Harvey didn't mind the interruption. "There's no more alcohol here, and Duke and Greg will want to drink when they get home. But the counter at the winery is too high and the cashier didn't see me when I went there before."

Percy blinked and slowly pushed himself up. Why the h*ll was Harvey in charge of fueling his roommates? It was pretty obvious, now that he thought about it. Why not? If he protested, they could just smack him with a meaty paw and listen to his tiny bones crack. But he didn't care to ask about it. "Fine, I'll go with you. Get your coat."

Harvey took a step back. He was still in his t-shirt. "I don't have one."

Percy bit his lip. He himself hadn't worn a long-sleeved shirt in a while, out of habit. He didn't want to be concerned about Harvey, though. "Will you cover up somehow?" he growled. He was never any good at hiding his frustration.

Harvey blinked his big eyes and disappeared off in the direction of his bed. Percy bundled up, carefully tied the shoelaces of his new shoes, and undid the locks on the door. He held it open to let Harvey through. His tried to tell himself that the door would probably smash him to pieces. And why do you care about that? His inner voice was taunting.

Harvey looked even younger, his raggedly blanket tenting around him. Percy shook his head and ran down the stairs, not looking back to see if Harvey could catch up. When he got to the first floor, Harvey's cheeks were flushed, but he was right in step with him. His dark, curly hair had a small halo in the cold afternoon light. His own young face, lacking the baby-fat cheeks and the innocent expression, was flat and carved with shadows. Percy's strides were wide out on the street. He wanted to get this done and get back into his bed.

The air outside somehow seemed a little fresher. It still smelled like any other back street; like weed and urine, with a heady source of smoke from all the milling cars, but it was easier to breathe. He took in a few rushed gulps as he stretched his legs out.

Halfway across a cul-de-sac, his legs began cramping. His limbs weren't used to power-walking after staying in the same position the whole day. He forced himself to breathe evenly, but eventually he'd slowed down and Harvey was puffing next to him, his bony elbows pushing at his blanket was he moved his arms back and forth. He looked silly, and cold, and Percy made himself look away.

The winery was coming up ahead. The front window was filled with fancy French wines dating back to the twentieth century but he knew they were all fake, and the cheaper spirits were inside.

Sh*t. He stopped in his tracks. Who was paying for this? He didn't have any money on him, and he certainly wasn't going to pull from his frail stash by his bed. He'd been introduced to drinking all the way back to Gabe's antics, but it never really hung on him. Drinking sometimes just made him cry for hours on, and the effects didn't last for long before the hungover came.

"Where are you getting the cash?" he asked Harvey in a low voice.

He shook his head and kept puffing out his cheeks in shallow breaths. His hand went to his pocket, though, so at least Percy didn't have to intervene on behalf of his a**hole roommates.

They went inside the gloomy store. There was no bell over the door, and the person behind the counter was buried inside an ancient magazine and stank of whiskey. No wonder he didn't notice Harvey. Percy slammed his fist on the plastic surface. The cashier jolted and threw down his newspaper, glaring his narrow black eyes at Percy. "What do you want?" his thin lips sneered. He was a fat old man, pimpled with liver spots and sagging red skin. He was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, for some reason.

Percy pushed Harvey forward. "Five bottles of vodka, three of rum, and one tequila," he said loudly.

"What? Who's speaking?" When the cashier leaned forward, Percy noticed a scratched nametag pinned to his shirt that read, "Dionysus." How fitting.

Harvey stood up on his tiptoes. "Me, sir."

"Who? And what do you want?"

Harvey patiently repeated the list while Dionysus seemed to have heard nothing. Biting away a groan, Percy ambled off into the store in search of the spirits himself.

When he'd grabbed everything, he carried them back to the counter, interrupting their one-sided conversation, and waited for Dionysus to slowly deem the price. He had a register that would calculate everything and a scanner to identify the prices, but he still took forever. Harvey handed over the messy wad of bills, and when Dionysus had carefully followed them into his drawers he muttered, "You're just going to have to use your arms, since we won't get plastic bags in case the environmentalists come and we're too poor for paper ones."

Harvey reached up and grabbed the hefty tequila one along with two vodka containers. He almost stumbled over with his bundle, but he didn't let go. Eyeing him cautiously, Percy picked up the rest and they started the walk back. The dark was slipping into the sky fast. He didn't think anyone would care about a tiny winery in the slums, but Dionysus seemed like the paranoid type.

"Do you prefer sweet or salty?"

Percy turned to stare at Harvey. "What?"

Harvey was about to repeat himself for the tenth time before Percy realized his mistake. "I don't care. Why do you want to know?"

Harvey shrugged, looking away. "No reason." He was too young to be that sneaky. But Percy decided to push away his own paranoia. It wasn't information the little boy could murder him with or anything.

When they got back inside, after a long struggle with the many locks while juggling the bottles, Harvey led the way into the kitchen, where he carefully arranged the drinks on the counter. Percy wasn't exactly sure why, since Greg and what's-his-face would ruin that immediately and wouldn't care for neatness, but Harvey seemed satisfied with the arrangement. He could probably start out as a bartender. It wasn't like he'd run out of business anytime soon.

"Thank you," Harvey said quietly. Percy decided to take it as a dismissal and slowly headed back for his cot. He sat down, unsure of what to do. His legs were too tired to hold him up. The smell of smoke seeped back from his cot, along with the ever-present vodka spills in the living room. His hideaway place in the wall also smelled like the familiar vinegar tinge of heroin-coated fingertips.

He didn't mind the trip. It actually cleared his mind a little. He wasn't mad at Harvey, either. That kid… well, he was something. He was probably going to get bullied to death for wanting to help, but at least he was considerably safe right now.

Now that he'd lost the itching for now, he wasn't sure what to do. Percy didn't want to bury himself back underneath his smelly blanket. He could head back to work, but the rest of his coworkers were probably getting off their shift. Pike didn't think it was affordable to hire a night crew, especially when the only business during the late hours was nothing he dared to face, and it would be an empty store full of wilting vegetables in a couple of minutes.

Percy listened to the quiet tinkling of glasses being moved around in the kitchen. Harvey was probably serving up drinks already. He leaned his head back against the wall. The money was somewhere around his elbow and he mindlessly brushed the spot with his hands. But the brick was already getting well-worn, and he didn't want anyone to find it, so he quickly retracted his fingers.

He felt like he was waiting for something. Maybe waiting for hope. And like he wasn't tired enough already, he also felt guilty for something.

F**k you, brain! Just leave me alone!

Something terrible he faced when he decided to not care was that, well, the truth just spilled out with everything else. Whatever he put up to stop it was swimming away with his only chance at sanity.

He felt terrible for being around Harvey. He was already trying really hard, trying to make himself resourceful, trying to survive. Things weren't easy for him right now. Percy didn't have to expose the "outside world" to him, the streets were as terrible as living in fear. And that sense, of noticing others, it wasn't going to last long anyways. Like those little kids who try to help bullied children or animals or whatever in books he read as a child: if they lived in reality, they'd give up long before saving the world because none of their "genius" plans were possible. He always imagined meeting them in real life and shaking them hard. How stupid could someone be? And they never grew up either, because adults certainly weren't supposed to have such ideas.

Either way, there was no point it trying to force innocent kindness out of Harvey. That he still had it now was some kind of miracle, and it would leave eventually. No matter why it was still here, he had to appreciate it at least.

Right on cue, Harvey's shuffling noises came closer, his soft padding and uneven breaths along with a new smell he couldn't quite place his finger on. Percy straightened, curious at what it was, and saw Harvey carefully holding a large plate. His eyes grew wide when he saw Percy sitting up and facing him, and he hesitantly showed the plate to him.

It held two slices of messy-looking French bread that were piled on top of each other by their crusts. The plate wasn't large enough to hold them side-by-side, and Percy realized one of them was much browner than the other one.

"Um, I don't…" Harvey went silent and dragging his eyes away, left the plate a few inches away from Percy's cot. Suddenly he produced something from the crook of his twiggy elbow. A glass of milk. Their fridge had been emptied of nothing but crushed beer cans and some long untouched takeout boxes since he moved in, so that was a rare sight. Reverently, Harvey set the glass next to his toast. With a wordless nod, he disappeared.

Percy didn't know what to think. He was always hungry, he could barely tell famished from starving, but he hadn't touched a crumb today. Why was Harvey thinking out for him, when he clearly had better things to do, like watch out for himself?

And… something was nagging at him. Dionysus or whoever was behind the counter could've noticed Harvey if he was loud enough. And Harvey was the one that pulled open the door when they left, plus his role as residential doorkeeper in this apartment, so getting the spirits should've been no trouble at all for him. Why did he ask Percy, then?

His hand started moving of its own accord and grabbed a piece of toast from the plate. It was warm and smooth and a little slippery. He glanced at his fingertips. They were glistening with—what, oil? He took a bite. It was some kind of bargain butter, slathered over sweet white bread and soft egg. It also exploded with spices: cinnamon and the blend of the rest. Was this why Harvey was asking him about his taste preferences? Percy grabbed the second slice with his left hand and took a bite. It was pleasantly sprinkled with salt.

He wolfed them both down, and gulped the milk. It reminded him of a latte Annabeth made for him. His hollow stomach felt a bit more filled.

His joints creaked and cracked as Percy stood up again. He carried the things to the kitchen, where Harvey was busy wiping up the counter. Percy left the plates in the messy sink and paused in the middle of the cracked tiles. He studied Harvey briefly.

"Do you want something?" he asked quietly, not turning around.

Percy's mouth suddenly felt dry again. He swallowed. "Why did you ask me to go to the winery? You could've managed the trip by yourself."

Harvey left his dishrag in the sink and turned around halfway. "No, the cashier has never noticed me. And the streets are unsafe."

It sounded legitimate enough, but he didn't think that was the only reason. "Are you f**king around?" He placed a hand on the kitchen table behind him, which if he was negotiating prices for his plastic bags, usually applied some force. It felt a lot steadier than before. He noticed from the corner of his eye that the color of the third leg was different. Did someone fix up the rickety old thing?

Harvey stared at the ground, turning a little pale. Percy swallowed and forced himself to speak more gently. "Can you be honest with me?"

"Yeah." Harvey sighed. "I didn't think it would be good for you if you stayed inside all day."

He wasn't expecting that. Harvey was really looking out for him? What was his reason? Or, more likely, issue? He blinked. "Thanks. Harvey."

He shrugged and rinsed his rag under the muddy water of their rusted faucet. Percy certainly wasn't pitching in to the water bill, as long as the other guys weren't paying attention, so their showers weren't going to get any longer either.

"Can I also ask you something?" Harvey asked him in a hushed voice.

"Go ahead."

"Where did you get that wood carving of a stingray?"

The earthy smell of Katie's, and apparently, Travis' home came back to him. "It was a gift to a baby. I got it at someone's house."

"Then why does did it smell so flowery, and also like lemon?"

"Well, I ate cake with lemon frosting there. And the owner had a lot of flowers."

Harvey clearly wasn't done. "Does the owner like drinking coffee?"

"What? Maybe, but I don't think so." He could barely recall a conversation between Katie and Annabeth where she said she recently didn't sleep much and drank a lot of tea.

"Then why do you sometimes have a faint coffee smell?"

It dawned on him. He was mixing Katie with Annabeth. "Um, that's another person." He was reeling a little inside. Why did he carry Annabeth's smell? Did they even get that close to one another? And then he regretted thinking that, because they did, and he didn't want to be blushing stupidly in front of Harvey. "We spend a lot of time together, so, yeah."

Harvey's eyebrows were furrowing. "Is that the guy who came here once? With the Rasta cap?"

Grover? Percy stared at Harvey with a raised eyebrow. "No. She's someone else. You've never met him."

Harvey puffed out his small chest. "Can I ask you to be honest?"

"Why?"

"What do you do with that woman?"

He tried not to imagine what this kid was thinking. "We just talk," he said defensively. "Hang out."

"Then where did the baby come from?" Harvey seemed to be hiding a smile behind his hand.

Percy gripped the edge of the kitchen table, but now for support. Harvey was more imaginative than he thought. "He's not mine!" he tried to keep his voice down and failed. For goodness sakes', he didn't even know if Annabeth was single or not. She probably was… but how would he know? He pushed that out of his mind.

"Look, she brought me to her friend's house. Her friend is married to—well, my coworker actually, and they had a kid. We're just, kind of, friends." He bit his lip. He was wrong to push Annabeth out of his mind. She cared about him, and she deserved to at least be respected for her decisions. In fact, he kind of missed visiting her, but she probably could use less all-nighters. If they met tomorrow, they fall into a schedule again, and he didn't mind one.

"Oh. Okay."

He ran a hand through his tangled hair. "Do you have any more questions?"

"You didn't actually say you'd be honest."

"What?"

"I'm just wondering if you two just hang out," he said quietly.

He felt like such a hypocrite for asking him to be truthful. It was terrible to admit aloud, but it wasn't like Harvey had anyone to tell. Other than Chris, maybe, but he didn't think so. And they weren't like anything he expected, anyway. "She's my therapist, okay? I go to therapy sessions every once in a while."

"Okay." Harvey took this in stride. "Thanks for telling me."

It was a lot more than he planned on doing. "Yeah. Why do you care so much?"

"It seemed interesting."

Percy shook his head. He might as well keep talking it him. It was much better than lying around and doing nothing.

**That's it, I'm updating regularly now, yay! Thanks for reading, guys.**

**Review reply:**

**Guest: Hey, thank you so much! Um, I'm guessing you didn't read the A/Ns because the brilliant plot actually belongs to DDaughterofAthena. Still, thanks for the encouragement. I'm trying to keep the pacing realistic, but honestly, it's just because of lack of planning. Action is coming up, but I'll definitely try to keep the same tone.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I have high expectations for this one. Let's see if they get reached. Also, it's longer than normal.**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: One of the aftereffects of repeated heroin use is weight loss, along with fatigue, migraines, and scabs or sores._

"Look, he's back!" Travis clapped him hard on his back and winced. "Man, why are your wing bones so hard?"

Percy shrugged, staring at the man that married Katie. He could see that same smile of mischief, but the similarities ended there.

"We missed you, man." Connor flashed him a quick grin. "Grover's wallet barely got any five-dollar bills."

Grover edged around the counter, which was a rule he rarely broke, and hoofed his way over to him eagerly.

"My wallet's empty, Connor," he said flatly, and met Grover's fist with his own.

"Perce, these guys have been wild yesterday, constantly bothering me. Like they haven't got anything to do. Work's really boring without you."

He thought they were cheesing it up a little hard, since it wasn't the first time he skipped work, but he shrugged it off and eyed the shelves. "Not much business yesterday?"

Grover snorted and lowered his voice slightly. "Yeah, except for all the missing Chez-Its and an airhorn, for some reason."

The Stolls snickered and bumped shoulders. They were in the process of planning a huge prank, as usual. Trying to arrange something at Freidman's wasn't terribly challenging, because half of the time Pike was too drunk to notice the Cool Whip smeared over the walls, but loud noises could jolt him.

"I'm not covering up for that." His "bad" day didn't take hold beyond last night, but the grouchy residue of his devil-may-care mood was still splattered over his attitude, and his words were running loose. "You better welcome the customers today, get some cash in the cashier."

"Yeah, 'course, man." "We got you." They slipped away to whisper and hammer at something in the back.

Grover looked over him but didn't say anything. No one tried to define how he felt at any certain time, and he was glad for that since he couldn't either.

They suddenly heard uneven, lumbering footsteps and the loud creak of the long-unoiled office door hinges. One of the Stolls whistled lowly under his breath.

Pike stumbled out and drunkenly looked around the grocery. When his eyes fell on Percy, they lighted like a murky brown lamp. Puffing out his chest like a rooster, he swaggered over. "Well, Jackson. Decided to show up today, huh? Were you terribly sick yesterday? Need his mommy to go into her basement and feed him cough syrup in bed? Well, boohoo, little Jackson, adults come to work in the real world!"

If only he knew. Actually, it was good he didn't. The kids at one of his schools used to call him "little orphan Annie." The next school didn't know a single thing about him.

He leaned in. "Look, Jackson. I'm not going to waste my precious breath yelling at ya. But I want you to know you'll be paying for it. Literally. Why don't I just take thirty percent of your salary? Sound good?"

Percy's lips parted of their own account. "Yes, that sounds perfectly fine." The bitter words fell like punches in his gut.

Pike raised his bushy eyebrows. He tried to recover. "That's what I thought." He spun around and marched to his office, and the loud whirring of his precious gourmet coffeemaker followed immediately after.

"You know, Perce, you can borrow from me…or just wait another month if you want, you know."

Percy shook his head. "It's okay. I'm going out with Chris soon. You coming?"

He winced. "Yeah, Percy." He breathed out. "But not tonight. Juniper found a special veggie restaurant."

Percy cracked a tiny smile. "That sounds perfect for you two." He wondered why Grover was hesitant all of sudden about dealing. He seemed to stop caring a long while ago, as long as it was a better income than the Grocery. But Juniper was probably helping him and making him a better person or something like that.

He tried to shake off the jealous sarcasm. He was happy for both of them. But it was a lot less painful to not care. On one hand, he envied Grover for allowing himself to really think about what he was doing, but it also distanced them because he was so far beyond that point. And he felt bad, because if Grover wanted to go down that moral road, he would realize everything around them was wrong, and there was no way out of it.

But he didn't want to deal on any of it. An itch was crawling up his arm. He grabbed his scanner and roughly began rifling through a rack of aprons. He breathed out. His relationship with Grover was getting better. He didn't seem to be embarrassed or uncomfortable on going on dates with Juniper, Annabeth was still right, he cared about him more than he pitied him. They were still skirting around the deeper topics, but Percy was gearing up to tell him about Annabeth at the right time. He was still a little nervous to imagine how his best friend would react, and the conversation that would inevitably follow, but it was important he knew.

When work was over, he noticed a text on his phone. Annabeth had sent it a little earlier in the morning. He paused outside Freidman's Grocery and, waving Grover on, read it a few times.

_Good morning! Was wondering when I'm seeing you again. The coffee machine's asking me to make a blue caramel macchiato, and I promise I wiped the table after walking all over it _

Of course, Annabeth typed in complex sentences. He paused, trying to come up with a not-too-forward answer. _Is now a good time?_

It was always five p.m. from them, right after he got out from work. He looked up at Grover, clearly calling Juniper with his goo-goo eyes, and realized something. Did Annabeth normally eat dinners at seven, or was he pushing it back because of their meetings? He had an erratic eating schedule, and skipped meals often, but what if she was starving while having to listen to him ramble on?

Annabeth had already responded. _Yeah, twenty-four hours, remember? I'm excited to see you._

He raised his eyebrows. Why did it feel different to see the words in text then hear Annabeth say something like it in person? He swallowed. How was he supposed to respond? He could say "Me too" but that was so cheesy and she would easily be able to tell he was faking.

_Yeah. im coming._

_Can you also bring a change of clothes? If you won't mind._

_Sure._

He swallowed, stuffed his phone in his pocket, and caught up to Grover. He was taking his sweet time hanging up with his girlfriend. "Hey, man, thanks for hanging out," he said when Grover was finally done. "You're heading to the restaurant now?"

"Yeah." Grover looked a little bashful.

"Got big plans or something?" Percy raised his eyebrows.

"No!" he blurted. "I'm just hoping she'll like the clothes I got for tonight."

Percy rolled his eyes. "She'll literally love whatever you have, man. Have fun, you two. Eat lots of kale."

"Thanks, Perce. We will."

He took the familiar path to the subway station, but paused in his steps when arriving to the corner that turned off to his place. He already planned on heading this way, because he had another idea. He'll also grab something from the "cleanish" pile, then.

He headed down the streets and blazed up the stairs. He knocked, knowing the bolt was on since the apartment reeked of weed, and Harvey opened the door for him. His little face beamed slightly, but he tried to repress his smile. "Hey, Percy. Welcome back."

He almost automatically pushed through him, but he offered a similarly small smile back. "Hey. I'll be out quickly. I'm just grabbing the _Odyssey._"

Harvey raised his eyebrows. "Annabeth gave you that, didn't she?"

He stopped halfway across to his corner. "How'd you know?"

"Well…" Harvey paused, clearly enjoying dramatic effect. "You don't exactly seem the one to get a book." He didn't mention what Percy normally brought home.

Percy rolled his eyes again. He thought he'd prove his apparent detective skills by noticing Annabeth's mark on the book or something. He grabbed the novel and carefully tucked it under his arm with a bundle of clothes. "I'm going to see her now. We're kind of changing our schedule."

For a moment, Harvey's eyes looked a little wishful. But he blinked, and it was gone. "Yeah, okay," he said, sliding under his covers again. The little boy spent a lot of time in bed, but it was clearly for warmth. "I hope it goes well."

"Me too," he said quietly, and left, leaving the door looked.

On the subway, for a moment, he felt self-conscious, pulling out a heavy book. He didn't want anyone to think he was a giant bookworm or something. Though he was missing the heavy glasses. Apparently, his devil-may-care attitude was fading a little. But he knew no one on the subway would be looking at him too carefully, though, so he flipped to his dogeared page (Annabeth told him to keep it, like his shoes) still in the beginning of the book, and immersed himself in the familiar story again.

A part of him was still listening out for the intercom, and when the long string of incoherent mumbling sounded again for the right number of times, he folded a corner down and headed out of the doors. He felt like part of him was still wrapped up in the _Odyssey _but he made himself focus on his surroundings when he entered the warm pine sap-scented lobby and started clambering up the stairs like he belonged. Which he thought he finally did. He'd moved over this staircase in the pitch dark and in the first light of the bare morning.

He gently knocked and opened the door when Annabeth answered, "You can just come in, Percy. No need to knock."

She'd said that a couple of times already, but he didn't want to barge inside. It was the polite instinct his mom grilled into him.

"Alright, now, I know how much you enjoy my surprises." Annabeth's eyes gleamed.

He wasn't sure how to respond. Obviously, she had something in mind, with the clothes, but now he wasn't sure if he should be wary.

She laughed. "I'm joking. I can see how much mixed feelings you have. Well, I do have something planned, but before anything new, your coffee is ready."

He eagerly peered inside. It was starting to feel like a new bag of candy for him to unwrap, and he could only wonder which blue goodies his mom got for him. In the mist of cream and caramel, there was a pale "e".

He drank and hummed. It was really good. Sweet enough to make his teeth hurt, and it was foamy and vanilla-y with the dark tang of expresso.

"It's kind of like a vanilla latte, but with caramel sauce. I don't really trust the bottled kind, so I made it myself." Annabeth stated this rather casually. When she noticed his stunned expression, she smirked. "I have many burned pots resting in my sink at home, waiting to be scrubbed. I make a huge batch at a time to keep from dealing with it again.

"Now, I don't want to be forcibly kidnapping you, so I better reveal everything here. The weather's great and so's the traffic, and I was wondering if you'd want to head out to Montauk for a trip. I know you can swim, you've got the right figure."

Oh, sh*t, he was blushing like crazy. She looked at his body? _Come on, its not like that. Stop it. _He stared intensely at his mug like his mostly-melted "e" was extremely interesting.

"Sorry." Annabeth laughed nervously. "But you do, don't you?"

"Yeah," he said softly. Going to Montauk…swimming….it was a little unnerving. And he felt a breakdown emerging from somewhere, slowly. But he wanted to consider it. See if the Atlantic was still so gray and cold.

"It's really nice today, but even if the traffic's not bad it'll still take two hours. And I don't want to take up three extra hours of your time—do you have dinner plans?"

"No." He never answered anything else, but this time it was different.

"There's a restaurant with really good tuna sandwiches and clam chowder by the beach. Kind of like Thanksgiving, right? Would you be okay going, and spending all that time on the road? I'm absolutely content with staying here, too, okay, it's your choice."

He blinked at the tiny bomb they dropped. He never celebrated Thanksgiving, and yeah, maybe it would be a small meal with them. He knew the answer from the bottom of his heart. It wasn't going to change. He felt a little nervous, being so certain, and he knew he would probably be sobbing at some point in the trip, but there was no way he was going to refuse it. "Yes, let's go to the sea."

-line break-

He wasn't sure how he ended up like this, crammed in traffic on the Long Island Expressway with a dog panting in his ear and Annabeth singing along to Adele in his other.

"_Hello, can you hear me?_ _I'm in California dreaming about what we used to be._" She sang well, of course, but she sputtered into laughter two often at the end of the lines. Even now, she was trying to force a straight face.

"…_when we were younger and free. I've forgotten how it felt, when the world fell at our feet." _She giggled again. "Okay, sorry," she said, returning to her normal, not-so-deep voice. "It's a good song, but I just can't sing it." Annabeth turned the volume down. "You okay with Fitz?"

"Yeah, he's nice." When Annabeth led him to her car, parked down the road from the Half-Blood Hill Co., his jaw dropped. First, he was expecting a Corvette convertible or something; only upper crust people visited the rest of the building and she owned all of it, but it was a run-down Toyota. And there was a giant Dalmatian-Great Dane mix poking out his large head from the backseat.

Annabeth had grinned. "He's part of the surprise I left out. He loves to swim and wouldn't let me out of the door when I grabbed my second pair of clothes. I named him Fitzwilliam, after Mr. Darcy. It's really terrible, giving whatever stowaways I meet super old-fashioned names, but I can't help it. Normally I call him Fitz or Fitzy," she said, rubbing the dog's pale brown cheeks. "But I'm just testing the waters. Any issues with dogs?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

"It wouldn't be a detour to drop him off, he won't be lonely at home." She paused, in case he changed his mind, and then pressed her keys. "Do you want shotgun?"

"Yeah, okay." 'Fitzy' looked like he took up the entire backset.

"I also brought towels and everything, you can leave your clothes on the trunk with them."

When Percy got in and took a closer look behind him, he realized Fitzwilliam was missing a couple of important parts. Like his back leg, half of his tail, and a bit of his floppy ear. "Did he get into an accident?"

"I'm pretty sure he was hit with a car or something, but I never found out because the first time I met him he'd been suffering from his injuries for a while. But he's recovered immediately, probably because of all the sausages he gotten to eat."

Fitz then stuck his head between them and nosed Annabeth's arm, clearly eager for some more.

The whole ride, he'd been sticking out his head to catch the wind, and even when they found themselves in traffic, he still craned his neck to stare at everyone around them, and his spotted ear brushed Percy's face every once in a while, if he looked out too.

He realized Annabeth knew he was going to agree, otherwise she probably wouldn't have made her dog wait the whole two hours. Was she this right about everything?

"Well, since singing's off from the list, and I don't think we're at the end of playing car-ride games yet, so why don't we talk. What have you been doing recently?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "I mean, hanging out with Grover and stuff. He's going on a date with Juniper today, and I know a lot more about them. Oh, and also I'm kind of getting closer with this kid that lives with me."

Annabeth tilted her head. The whole car already smelled like her lemony shampoo. "Yeah?"

"I'm kind of just rooming with a couple of dudes and he showed up one day. He's like…nine or ten. But we got to talking yesterday."

"About what?"

"Well, for the most of the day, I was literally doing nothing. Killing time by lying in bed. And then he got me to go with him on an errand. He's pretty curious. Wants to know where I got that statue Katie's son gave me, and all about my nonexistent social life and such."

"Nonexistent? And who am I?" Annabeth teased.

He didn't attempt to answer. He was also wondering that question. "Well, yeah. He's a good kid. Unlike me."

Annabeth didn't agree to or reject that. He paused, and kept going. "I know it would be the good to thing to do by I'm protecting him from reality, but he's not going to stay sheltered forever. But, like, yeah, he's a tough kid. I don't think being a friend would hurt him."

Annabeth looked away, but he still caught the curve of a smile poking into her tanned cheek.

"I'm back on routine today. Went to work, and now I'm talking to you."

"That's great." She studied him. "Did anything cause this bout of depression?"

"I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair, recalling that night for the millionth time. He went back from seeing Annabeth, and hit two parties where he only struck a few bucks. Maybe it was the emotional roller coaster. Feeling all hopeful when Annabeth convinced him to be, and then realizing he would still have to wait to actually be happy. That was something only heroin would bring him, was it?

"Percy, stop thinking about it. Can you look at me?"

He slowly turned to her. It was painful to meet her eyes. She was so expectant, so hopeful, and she seemed to believe he could be fixed. It wasn't going to happen. He breathed out softly, and stared at a spot on her forehead, and wished she'd think he was looking right at her. The warm, beautiful angles of her face glowed in the deep orange light. It hurt to look at the sun, why should she be any different? He wanted to wince, but he didn't want her sharp eyes to capture that.

And then he was noticing them. The irregular sprinkling of freckles on her nose, the way the corners of her lips weren't completely aligned, how strands of her hair curled wildly from her loose ponytail, and the tiny scar on her chin.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

He leaned back on his headrest. "Nothing. I'm hooked on drugs, a drug, and sometimes it's hard to deal without them." She clearly knew what his scratching meant, but it felt like a release to say it into the air, see how she would react.

She was still caught up in watching him. "Is that it?"

He broke their gaze and stared out his window. "I rationally know heroin won't save me; it'll just kill me in the end. And sometimes, I don't know, I get a little hope, but it's really just hopeless, because it's still the only thing that can make me happy."

"Really?"

He grinned wryly to himself. "No, it doesn't make me happy. It makes me high. And sometimes I hallucinate my mother, and that makes me happy. For the few moments the high lasts. And then I go back into the world, and it feels even worse because it's like she's been taken from me again." He sighed. "I know I sound so much like a mama's boy, and I am. She was the best person I ever met. She was with me when I was innocent, happy, and she held me close when I realized the world was so imperfect." He could only half-believe he was admitting this to Annabeth, even if she wasn't so much of a stranger.

Her voice was low. "Have you ever believed a drug overdose could take you to her?"

He shook his head. He felt like he was going to cry before he even got to Montauk. "No, I don't believe in the afterlife. I guess it doesn't matter what every individual thinks, and it's more of a game of chance to see what we're delivered, but I think the likelihood of us meeting again would be too good for me to deserve."

"If life really is a game of chance, then I should say we're extremely lucky. That we're not burning to death by the sun, and that we can somehow live. Even if all our lives are terrible. But what do you think regretting the past can bring?"

"Well, it's kind of like fear. It keeps you from hurting yourself again, like if you were afraid of being burned. It's supposed to keep me from my mistakes. Help me find from the mess that is my present."

"But if you're not living your present, who is?"

"Why should I care about what is happening right now? Because nothing is, except for the same old depressing stuff. Sure, sometimes things are better, but I'm facing an early death anyway. So whatever relationships I make right now don't matter. Grover can marry his girlfriend. Harvey has a whole future ahead of him, what does he care about someone he met as a kid? The ones I've messed up will have to suffer, but maybe Nico will feel a little better that I've been treated the same as his sister. I'm sure you believe that if I open up and trust them and be kind or whatever they'll love me and I'll be happy but what if that's impossible? What if I can never trust someone again? What if I'm so ugly inside? And even if we love each other so much they'll have to say goodbye to me in twenty or so years. And they might grow bitter because of that, because they're incomplete now! And the cycle of life continues!"

He leaned his forehead against the cold window, feeling a little queasy. Maybe Annabeth would kick him out, or send him to the mental hospital. At least they had free meals. But the worse alternative was that she'd try to find a way to make him feel better. And eventually feel bad, since she couldn't.

Before the silence could unnerve him, he spoke again. "Isn't everyone afraid of this? That's there's no meaning in life? That even if we were meant to do good, every single human lighting up a bit of the dark won't push it away? Because the light cannot exist without the dark."

"If there is only dark, then what's that supposed to be?" She pointed out at the sun. Annabeth didn't look sad or scared or angry. She seemed utterly calm. "I don't have any answers, but I believe you're wrong about one thing. Light and dark are not reliant on each other. But for us, we have both, and we can never entirely get rid of one of them. Anyway, I know that something is better than nothing."

"There's nothing out there."

"Really?" Annabeth lowered his window. "Can you sense something now?"

He could. Car exhaust, the gentlest rays of the sun, a line of cars stretching to the horizon. And the vague heat and summery smell of Annabeth behind him. Oh, of course, Fitz's soft panting.

He wasn't sure if something could really be better than nothing. But nothing didn't seem so great anyway, even if it seemed to be awaiting him eventually.

Annabeth breathed out a soft exclamation. "Yes!" The cars were inching along. She revved her engine and carefully toed the gas pedal.

"Hey, you ready for Montauk?"

"Yeah."

"Good, because the world is waiting for you."

The Toyota turned at an exit, and they were winding through some small, beach town-like streets. They finally glided to a stop at a parking lot. Annabeth went to the back to let Fitz out, and Percy slowly got out on his side. There were a few crumpled napkins by the cupholder between the front seats and a Kenyan beaded bracelet hanging from the mirror. He couldn't believe that in such a small space they'd been pouring out their hearts. He felt Fitz brush past his side and bound off again, running straight into the surf. Percy shut his door and looked out to the beach.

He almost expected his mother to stand in the sand, waving, toting blue saltwater taffy, telling him every time he looked out to sea, he should see his father. Saw their footsteps, leading to a cabin, where they once rented _The Shining _and neither of them could sleep. And he wondered how many shells hiding under the surf she'd touched before.

Annabeth had parked on the edge of the lot, and when she stepped on the sand, she kicked off her shoes and ran straight for the water, kicking up sand in dark gold spray and her flapping ponytail turning bronze in the sunset as she melted into a mysterious silhouette, running for the water. Right when her bare toes were touching the water, she turned back, and the white of her teeth glowed faintly. "Percy?" she called.

He found himself running over. "The water's going to be freezing," he panted. "There's no sun out either for us to get warm."

Annabeth grinned wider, yanking off her hairband. "You know you want to go in. If we swim fast enough, the cold won't catch up with us."

His heart was sprinting in his chest, and not just because of his chasing. He looked away from her dim, slivery moonstones for eyes and treaded in, diving inside the ocean when the choppy water was at his chin. The iciness of it ran over his body, shaking every nerve awake. He wanted to pull out, but the thrill was pulsing in his veins.

He looked through the water and saw the dull gold of Annabeth's hair, right next to him. She was right.

They didn't need to worry about the cold.

**Yes, I'm finally done! Btw, the friend she mentions is someone you guys know. She'll appear soon. Any guesses?**

**Review reply:**

**Booknotbookie: Oh, wow, thank you! That was so nice and encouraging for you to write. Honestly, this can't compare to a lot of other stories here, but thanks! I thought I'd struggle with angst so that was really nice of you to say. Um, I didn't purposely make the characters frustrating, except for the main one I guess, but I hope they're still kind of likeable. Trying to make everyone complicated and stuff has been hard, so thanks! I hope this continues to be well-paced, since character development still may be slow. But I'll keep trying to make this good.**


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm certain most of the info here is wrong. It came mostly out of my imagination and a little bit from Brooklyn Nine-nine :).**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: The New York Subway station has dropped in speed in recent years, with only around 80% of trains arriving on time. _

Percy hated drinking. He couldn't think straight, he quickly lost credibility as a dealer, he wasn't in control of his feet anymore, and he being was honest to himself. That one was the worst.

He and Chris were at a high-end party somewhere in the East Village, and for the first few hours, he knocked out most of his plastic baggies. He was looking around for Chris to ask him for the rest that they didn't carry on themselves, which he didn't know the location of for his safety. But they were in an absurdly huge party-mansion some European millionaire built and he didn't have any luck finding Chris, so Percy wandered into the "maxi-bar," as opposed to a mini-bar. Some smiling people ignored his offers for ordering the plastic bags and handed him a cup. Next thing he knew, he was in a corner of the sunken pit, watching beautiful 1920s-style dancers hanging over him on strings and pouring out his guts to himself.

"I can't even do this probably. Properly. Deal to people. And deal with people." He laughed to himself. "This is the only real job I've got. I can't interact with people. I mean, I didn't do high school. Probably missed out on some real bonding.

"D*mn it, I didn't have any real relationships in kindergarten. I didn't know how to talk to the other kids, and I didn't want to. I just kept to myself, and they stayed away, all the way to middle school. I can try and blame everything on my childhood, Gabe's beatings and all those foster parents and Clarisse running me around the streets but…but it's all me. It never mattered what other people did, okay? I chose to be pathetic. I chose to mess up my relationships, chase after Rachel and push away Reyna. I chose my bad days and to mop around and never get better. I chose to be thrown because I thought about my mother for too long."

Percy shook his head. "I don't want to hear this, and not from myself. But I know it's the truth, and I've got to talk to someone. Tell them I'm what's behind how messed up I am. I swear, I get lonelier every f**king day. I mean, I know what's right. I know self-hating, all this negative energy whatever is no good. I know I should be eating Annabeth's pills. I mean, the antidepressants. Whatever. I know I should clean up my life, turn in this cocaine to the police station, sign up for rehab, and maybe start answering Annabeth's calls so she can check in every other day and we can have our little chats without running to the beach. Though that's nice. At least I'm allowed to use all the time, instead of creeping around and making sure I'm not high at sessions. I still feel guilty, though. And I've bled myself dry. Okay, no, I've really got to actually start answering her. Because I haven't seen her in half a week and any moment now, she's going to get over her therapist-y 'I gotta give him space' thing and bust open my door. She knows my station and her genius mind probably hacked my phone already. And then she's going to ask questions we both know the answer to, but I don't want to answer. It's not like she bought my text about 'Annabeth, I need to process some things blah blah.' I didn't buy it. And if she finds me trashed tonight, she's going to take me to rehab herself. Especially once she finds the full bottle of pills under my pillow. I'm surprised she hasn't said anything about getting me to stop the heroin. And right before they lock me into my cell, I'm probably going to blurt out that I love her."

"D*mn!" He yelled. "Seriously? I did not ever want to think that. Or say that. Whatever." He groaned and dropped his head into his hands, dribbling a little of his drink onto his pants because he was crushing the cup. His foggy mind was imagining her face if he said that. When he said that she would probably still look beautiful under those fluorescent lights or whatever free rehabs use to light things up. And then her jaw would drop and her pretty gray eyes-like fish scales, kind of, iridescent or whatever they call it, would color with disgust. And that would disappear immediately, and she would smile back at him, and it would look like a toothpaste commercial, and he wouldn't be able to tell it was fake with his eyes but he knew it with whatever was left of his common sense, that there was no f**king way she would say, "I love you, too, Percy."

"Yeah, that's exactly it. I'm so good at imagining. Well, at least a little. Seems like the only thing out there. I should do that for a job. Imaginater. Wonder if they'd pay me enough. If I have to be around other people. If I live on the other side of the earth from Annabeth and Reyna and Nico and…d*mn. Is Annabeth really going to get added on the list of people I messed up? She is already, man. But, like, she's strong. She's probably as over it as Reyna and everyone else. I'm just the only one stuck."

"I think I need her. It sounds so bad. I sound like some random guy on Top 40. Except I'm not even at their level. They can say they need some random girl's love. I'm not even close to that. It's all just unrequited nonsense, except I don't think I'm there either. I mean, like unrequited requires-which sounds really similar-someone worthy of the love, right? Well, how would I know, but it sounds right. Because I shouldn't deserve to moan over someone I'm not worthy to know. But I still am. I swear, I am in the darkest depth of being pathetic. Why do I feel like she makes my week better? Makes my week sunnier, even if she's just bringing up are my demons. I mean, it's called therapy for a reason. Yeah, I need help. I need her, because she's the polar opposite of me. I don't like how she's right and we have to be serious and dig up my skeletons but I know we do. And I'm so f**king scared of hope but she keeps bringing it up for me, and this crazy illusion of love, but they're getting more familiar with me."

"Percy?"

It was a distant call, and Percy looked around wildly, seeing nothing but graffitied walls. "Percy?" he heard again. "How did you get down there? Percy!"

"I'm above you, Percy!"

He squinted and saw Grover waving from the edge of the sunken pit. He smiled in relief. "Percy! How do I get down?"

Percy shrugged. "Dunno," he yelled back.

Grover turned away and was motioning to a dancer a few feet above him. She gracefully flipped upside down and, holding up her feathered headband with one hand, conversed with Grover for a few minutes before pulling at her string and falling to his level. She held out her hands and smiled generously, seating Grover on her lap. His best friend was tomato red when he flopped down next to Percy.

"What-how-that was-um, crazy! Did she think I'd like that? Do I look like I'd like that?"

Percy rolled his eyes. Of course that was the reason Grover got all flustered up. He could barely see any other girls since he met Juniper.

"Who cares? Why are you here, crashing my pity party? My pity party in a real party in a party mansion." He grinned to himself.

"Percy, you're drunk. Seriously drunk. I should take you back home."

"What? No! I'm fine here. Anyway, Harvey's got his hands full with the whats-his-I mean-their-faces. He doesn't need to see me drunk."

"Harvey? You mean the skinny boy?"

"Yeah, the skinny boy. He's a legitimate bartender thanks to my roommates. Anyway, I don't know, I think he likes me or something. Maybe even looks up to me. Which is terrible. I don't want to break his heart, you know? I mean, I somehow got into this position of hiding things from him, again, well not again, but I told myself not to. That's why I didn't want to get close to him at first. He's an unglorified bartender, you know?"

Grover was staring at him weirdly.

"I mean, he's a strong boy. He doesn't need to be kept from things. I mean, he's seen me high before. A couple of times. Maybe I just don't want to face my shame at disappointing him. 'Cuz the shame of getting his hopes up in the first place is already here. But whatever. I'm not going home. I'm fine here, wherever this is. You can go home. Wait, why are you here?"

Grover sighed. He stared at the ground. "Okay, I've been scared to tell you this. Because, you know, we're not big on talking about the big stuff. But I want to propose to Juniper. And I know she's not about the money, d*mn it, her house is a few dozen meters bigger than mine, but I still want to give her a diamond ring. To show her I'm willing to pitch in everything I'm got, and halve the bills. Or at least make a big gesture, you know. And I wanted to do it legally and all, start with a clean state before we say our vows. But I can't keep pretending. Six months of paychecks from Pike isn't going to pay. Chris always gives us both a chance. So I took it."

Percy slumped against the wall. "Good for you. That clean act isn't going to really help you. Well, fair warning, stay away from that old dude with a silver chain. He'll try to cheat you by being a businessman right back."

Grover sighed. "Yeah, I don't think leaving you alone is the best idea." He grabbed Percy's cup and sniffed it. "What's in here, Percy? How many of these have you had?"

"I dunno," he mumbled. "The guy in the Guns and Roses t-shirt said he was a creative soul, so I probably had different mixes."

"Percy, why are you getting drunk?"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" he propped himself up. "I also tried to take the high road. I spent my nights sleeping or, more often, ducking to Annabeth's office for late-night cocoa, instead of passing out my bags and now I'm low on cash. I think I did the math earlier, I'm going to have to go to three more parties, better than this one, to pay for a couple of ounces of heroin. And since I'm not finding all of those tonight, I might as well drink a lot. I mean, a little."

Grover leaned in, and his head spun. "What? Percy-seriously, what? You know your brain is only hardwired for a heroin rush. What's the point of losing your motor controls and your grip on yourself just to killing your liver?"

"You're being an idiot. I kill way more than my liver by using heroin, Grover! Do you think I care about that anymore?"

Grover groaned and pulled his scrunched-up Rasta cap over his face. After a moment, he pulled it off and grabbed Percy's shoulders. Percy flinched and shoved his friend, hard. "Don't do that!" he said, breathing heavily. "Don't hurt-touch me."

Grover slowly pushed himself off the floor. "I'm sorry. But I want you to listen. Do not hurt yourself, Percy. You need to realize some worth in your life. People care about you, you know? You might not realize it, but a lot of people do. If you kill yourself, you are killing me too."

With his blurry vision, Percy turned to stare at him. All he could see was his bright-red cap and curly hair. "You're drunk, too, man. You haven't even picked up anything from Chris yet, and you can—well, you're supposed to be able to find him because you haven't breathed in too much weed smoke."

Grover shook his head. "Well, I'm clearheaded enough to tell you the truth! I don't want to lose someone else! You pretend everyone exists in your world, but even if I wasn't on the streets with you, I knew Bianca too, okay. While I was getting bullied in high school, I met that scary-a** Reyna. And the other part of my life, that we never talk about, I've lost others. I miss them, too. I am not losing my best friend, Percy. Please."

Percy sighed. "I don't want to break another promise, Grover. I don't know if I can say that. I-I just…I'm just sorry. It's true, you knew them too."

Grover shook his head. "Yeah, I did. Also, Percy, who's Annabeth?"

F**k. Grover was taking advantage of his knows-no-bounds honesty. "Okay, you know what, she's my therapist. I wanted to tell you soon. We even talked about it. She always said you cared about me. I know that, man. It just had to take someone else to get it through my thick head. She's… I don't know. She's cool. She's really kind, but she's not afraid to tell it to me straight. We see each other-saw each other often. I'm not talking to her anymore because I feel like I'm too much of a mess. And we just had a good moment." He sipped the last drop of his drink to build up his guts to say this, because he knew it was coming out anyway. "And I think I'm in love with her."

Grover stared at his sneakers for a moment. "That's a lot to take in," he murmured. "But she sounds like a good person. I'm happy for you, Perce."

Percy shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's not like that. We've only been friends, I guess. I mean, she's really nice to me and all, like probably more than is required, oh, and all of our sessions are free, too, just like required of her job, but I don't even want to think about how she might feel about me. Only today am I even allowing myself to acknowledge that I might love her. It's really crossing a line, man. I'm not sure what to do on the other side."

"Yeah," Grover said with a mix of a laugh and a sigh. "Don't go into the pits of self-agony and pity and longing and all of that. If she notices that, it's going to get weird."

Percy squinted at this. "Seriously? Is this from Juniper? Because I don't remember any other girlfriends. Unless you're talking about someone from elementary, which is just weird, man."

"Of course I'm talking about Juniper. I thought I barely deserved to touch the ground she walked on. And then she called me out."

"Let me guess, she said she liked you too and you guys made out with the sunset as a backdrop?"

Grover blushed a little and didn't respond.

"Yeah, exactly. Those Hallmark movies aren't all BS, I know that. Happy endings happen, just not for me. Look, our whole relationship is already all weird because I'm kind of dependent on her, you know? Everyone says you gotta count on yourself, be two individuals in a relationship. And anyway, like, she's my therapist. That's just kinda messed up. Like the Joker and Harley Quinn, except the roles are reversed. Well, I mean, she's not exactly crazy and trying to kill me. But how exactly could this turn out?"

"Is she the reason you're suddenly all about your feelings? I mean, don't get me wrong, that's a good thing compared to how you used to be silent as a clam, you know, even after winning a drinking contest." Grover sluggishly turned over to him. "Okay, you know, man, I've got the more dating experience over here, even if I've only ever been together with Juniper, but at least I talked to girls."

"Shut up." He scooched away. "You were too busy with your SAT prep classes to meet Rachel, not that anything was there. And obviously Juniper was destined for you, so that doesn't even count."

"No, you shut up! I have a point here, somewhere, okay? The only girl you were close enough with, at least for me to meet, was Reyna, and she was a sister to you. And she moved away. I never told you about all my other crushes because they were stupid and way out of my league. But I asked out all of them, okay. Yeah, I was young and crazy, but I also have no regrets. If she rejects you, like they did, at least you don't have to spend the rest of your days wondering, you know. When did you meet her?"

"Like, a month ago. Look, man, I don't need this. It's just all in my head, and that's hardly been for a few minutes. I just want to step back over the line. I don't need to go crazy thinking about this."

"Fine, okay, I'll accept that. But if you still love her in a year, then I'm right. And you'll have to pay back my loan for Juniper's wedding ring."

"Seriously? You're taking the high way again with the bank? They're not going to give it."

"Then I get it from a friend with a clean job. And they'll give it because being paid back is guaranteed."

"Shut up." Percy pulled himself up with the wall. "I want another drink. Maybe that'll mess with my memory, and I'll stop telling myself the truth." He waved up at the dancing girls wildly.

"Stop that!" Grover scrambled up after that. "You're not getting another one!"

Three girls swung down to Percy, all grinning widely. "Hello, sir," they said in unison. "We'd love to help you."

"What about me?" Grover yelled. "Don't leave me here."

The girl in the middle frowned slightly and delicately slid over to him. All together, the girls looped their slim arms around their waists and rose. Percy's ears rang with their happy giggles. When they were dropped off above the sunken pit, and Percy was smothered with little pecks, he stumbled around in a circle. "Where's the maxi-bar?" he yelled to everyone in their vicinity.

"You are not getting another drink," someone demanded, and Percy saw a blurry brownish figure coming towards him.

"Percy! We're going back. This was a mistake." His voice trembled a little on the last sentence.

"Who are you?" Percy muttered.

"He's been crazy," Grover announced.

"You're coming too. Why did you even get drunk?" The guy groaned. "Percy, it's Chris. I'm taking you home."

"It's not home!" Percy snapped. "I haven't been home in ages! Home is not the place where little boys get beat and overgrown men can't stop drinking and where you are!"

Grover leaned over. "Hey, hey, let up on Chris. It's not his problem."

"Yeah, it is! He's the one who showed me heroin for the first time! While you were graduating and he was only looking at Clarisse!"

The other two were quiet for the first time. Percy shoved between them and edged up to some guy in a suit. "Hey, would you be interested in ordering some coke?"

Chris was suddenly there. "No, no, sorry, ignore him. He's drunk."

"Go away!" Percy yelled. "Isn't this supposed to be your job? Anyway, I'm out of baggies and I need my next high! Because you got me hooked!"

And then police sirens echoed across the high ceiling of the party mansion.

-line break-

Shoes squeaked across the dirty floor. Percy stuffed his head deeper between his knees. His head ached. He'd skipped the knocked-out, unconscious sleep and was already having from his hangover. And his throat hurt from yelling.

A young police officer, pertly dressed and carrying a tray of coffees, proudly swung into the precinct. She squinted at the fancy people in party clothes sprawled all over the makeshift waiting room and hurriedly tiptoed away. Percy groaned as her high heels scratched the floor.

Someone in a plaid blazer was mumbling to himself loudly in the chair next to Percy. "When they call me in my pee's going to show positive and I'm going to lose my scholarship to Yale and my parents are going to disown me and my brother's going to get my Aston Martin and I'm going to have to live on the street on a cardboard box and no one's going to put any coins in my cup and I'm going to have a caveman beard and starve to death—"

Percy's voice was too hoarse to tell him to shut up and he didn't have enough strength either to hit him, so he stumbled his way to the corner. A woman in sky-high silver stilettos suddenly scrambled up from the ground, lunging at the face of a knit-sweater guy with her scarily long nails, and then flopped in his seat with a long sigh when he scuttled away. When she noticed everyone awake and not on drugs was staring at her, she spread her hot-pink lips and hissed.

One of the police officers that arrested them strode into the room. "Next person!" he barked. When no one responded he rolled his eyes and pointed at the person closest to the doorway. "You!" When he was in the other room, everyone could hear him loudly say: "I swear, every single one of them is high."

Percy sagged against the wall. He was lucky this time. He didn't have a speck of white dust on him, and at least the party was classy enough to not have a heavy cloud of weed having over everything. And because most of the guests weren't underage, at least he didn't have to wait forever for a bunch of teens to get shoved into jail. But he figured he would still be here until noon. And Pike would throw both him and Grover out the door.

Something buzzed in his pocket. He dragged his phone out and discovered he had one percent battery, and also a slew of texts from Annabeth. The blue light hurt his eyes so he only read the most recent one.

_Percy, I'm really getting worried. I'm going to come find you if you don't reply. If you just want to be by yourself, you have to tell me._

He dropped his head back between his knees. He knew he had a few seconds to come up with an answer, because Annabeth would turn New York upside down, he knew that.

His fingers trembled and slipped on his keyboard. _No. 5 pm._

The texting bubble appeared. And then his screen went black.

But he felt relief. He stuffed his phone into his pocket. The police officer came again. "You, in the blue hoodie." Percy slowly got to his feet. He went over to the doorway. "Well, that took you long enough. Here," he said, handing him a plastic water bottle. "Drink up like its beer." He grinned at his own joke.

He stood quietly against the wall, watching the rest of the police officers tap at their computers and pour through files as he drained the bottle. He looked around the officer.

"Oh, you're done. Good. Come with me." He took the empty bottle and led him to a table, where little plastic cups were stacked up. "You know what to do with these, don't you?" He pointed at a freckled, grimacing guy. "He's going to watch you to make sure nothing else goes into the cup."

Percy shrugged and followed the young officer to the bathroom. The other guy pointed to a yellowish spot on the ground. "Don't think of trying anything," he said after a pause, trying to sound menacing.

Percy rolled his eyes, but he couldn't say any of his retorts aloud so he matter-of-factly unzipped his pants and squatted down. The officer grimaced even further when he had to lean down and pick up the cup. "So, what'd you touch tonight? Um, last night. Some of that new stuff on the market? What is it called, peth?"

Percy rolled his eyes. Didn't this rookie know not to interrogate people in the toilet? And he clearly didn't know a single thing about drugs and what being high should look like.

"Are you quiet because you're scared? Scared your loving parents will disown you because you're not the angel they expected you to be?"

Percy clenched his jaw. In his mind, he prayed for him to shut up. Assaulting a rookie officer would put him in trouble. Taking a deep breath, he went to the door and walked out.

"Hey!" the guy yelled behind him. Percy went straight to the officer and pointed at the newbie, who was holding the cup of pee with the utmost gentleness and walked at a pace of an inch per minute. The older officer rolled his eyes. "You can go back and wait with the rest."

It took a while for his sample to be tested, and for them to find him again, but the results were exactly as he expected. Negative. Percy was released, and he ran straight for the subway. The morning rushes were over, but there was still a small crowd milling around the streets, but he pushed straight until he got onto a seat. A red Rasta cap jumped up a few train cars down, and Grover blazed over. He paused when he was in front of him. "Hey, Perce, um, last night…" Percy raised his hand, and then pointed to his throat. Grover nodded knowingly and sat down beside him. "It's chill, right? For now?"

He didn't know how to communicate that it was all his problem, so he nodded.

Grover leaned back and ran a hand through his tangled hair. "Pike is going to have an issue with this. I think he's considering breaking child labor laws."

Percy cleared his throat. "Then we'll get a lawyer," he rasped.

Grover laughed hard, and the rest of the subway ignored him. "Yes, yes we will. For the kid, though. Because we were involved with some illegal stuff at the party."

Percy nodded, and they quietly waited for the stop to come.

-line break-

Percy knocked twice on the door, and it was flung open in front of him. Annabeth was beaming at him, looking hazard and relieved at the same time. "Percy, I am so glad to see you again." She let out a heavy breath. She let him in and waited until he was seated. "How are you? Is the hangover treating you okay?"

Percy hid a smile. Her attempt at interrogation wasn't any less subtle. "Yeah, it's okay. Nothing I can't get over."

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. "Do you need some water? Your voice is a little croaky."

"No, I'm fine. I just raised it a lot last night. Well, at least I think so. I was pretty drunk."

Annabeth smiled. "Well, I can tell. You didn't get any sleep in the last twelve hours, did you?"

"Yeah." He rubbed a hand down his face. "You got any coffee for me?"

She grinned. "Yeah. Is black with a little milk okay? You don't look like you could use any sugar right now."

Percy bit his lip. "I don't like the bitterness."

"That's okay. I'll sprinkle in some salt to get rid of the taste."

While she tossed grounds into the machine, he knew it was his cue to talk. He was tired of talking, but Annabeth deserved to hear it. "I'm sorry I went AWOL and worried you. It wasn't anything. Just a bad week. And last night, I went to a party to um, deal. It sounds terrible, but it's the first productive thing I did all week. Anyways, I had good business. But not enough. I mean, enough for my normal amount, but I guess my brain is kind of messed up with the instant gratification because I want to save up for a month. I can't really remember what drove me to the bottle. And then I was yelling at myself and my best friend and Chris. Not sure if I mentioned him to you, but he brought me to dealing. It was supposed to be a one-time deal but I took it. The police came, but I was clean, so I got let go."

Annabeth hummed a little. "Well, that's a lot to take in."

He sighed. When he got to spewing out his guts, it was too hard to go back. "You know what, I'm tired of beating around the bush and tea-time talks. What did I do wrong, Annabeth, and what should I change?"

"Nothing." Annabeth blinked at him, putting down her stuff for once. "We can go straight to the point. What do you think is wrong?"

"Well, my whole life." His voice was naturally in the habit of raising, it seemed. "Dealing, doing heroin, drinking, not coming here."

Annabeth sat down. "Really? Do you actually agree with that?"

"Yes." He stared at her, confused.

"Well, it's not very convincing to me. Why did you still do all that?" Her eyes burned.

"It felt better than the right thing."

"What else is wrong, though?"

He gritted his teeth. He hated discussions in his middle school classes where the teacher wanted their students to realize something that they just weren't smart enough to figure out. But Annabeth wanted whatever he thought was the truth. "Making the choice to have a bad week. Making the choice to think I'm not above heroin. Telling myself it was all my fault when I rationally know it was an accident with all of them except when Gabe intentionally hurt Mother."

Annabeth nodded with a soft smile. "Percy, I hope you didn't come here because you thought I could save you. I can't, Percy. I can tell you, though, that only you can."

He slumped in his chair. He knew this. She said it to him before. And it was the last thing he could pretend to agree with tonight. "I can't save myself, Annabeth. I'm just so tired of thinking about what's the right thing that I can't actually do it. You have a high-paying job and you don't have an addiction. You were supposed to tell me how to get there."

The coffee pot beeped. Annabeth slowly poured himself a mug and drizzled milk inside. He saw a faint "t" that melted into the blackness in the mug before him. She handed him a saltshaker too.

"Percy, I'm not going to force you to go to rehab. But I know you have enough energy and life inside of you to fight your addiction."

He stared at her. "Aren't you supposed to say I don't have to do this alone? That rehab will help me?"

"I don't say a lot of the things I'm supposed to. Look, I believe in you. And you're right. You're not doing it alone. I'm here for you, Grover, Harvey, and everyone else you say doesn't care."

He shook his head. "The never-ending cycle of my addiction? It's following the cycle of life. I can't break it."

Annabeth crossed her arms. "No, in the cycle of life you die and your babies grow up. Or it just ends right there. In the cycle of your addiction, when you use up all your heroin, you choose to ask Chris for more. You choose to go to a party and sell your drugs. And then you get high again."

"If I break it, I will die, just like in the life cycle. It's become my lifeline, Annabeth."

"Percy, the tea-time talk stops right here. Your negative side is telling you that you can't stop, that you need drugs. One thing I will tell you is that that side is lying its face off. You can do what's supposed to be my place and listen to yourself."

Percy let out a slow breath. Next thing he knew, he was crying for the second time in front of Annabeth. Annabeth, who danced on a table for him, who waited in subway stations with coats, who sang Adele.

"I can't, I can't, I can't," he blubbered. "I'm going to lose my only chance at happiness, at seeing my mom, at having solid ground. And my brain's addicted. My body can't hold it together anymore, even now. I don't care if I'm living a lie. I need this."

Annabeth let him cry in silence. He didn't even know why he was acting crazy. He didn't feel sad. He didn't really feel anything. Minutes trickled past, with him trembling in his chair and hurriedly wiping at his tears. Finally, he came up for air. Staring at the table, he mumbled. "Don't expect anything. But I'll try."

And his ocean settled in within him.

"Percy," Annabeth said quietly. "Thank you."

He folded his arms on the table and laid his head down, staring numbly at the wall.

"Look, I know you're not going to be sleeping tonight, so…. here." Annabeth pulled something out from her drawer, and Percy turned to look.

It was a small origami crane, with its wings gently folded down. It was made of sharp edges and soft curves, a pale blue with a dusting of little pink petals.

"I'm sure you've heard the legend that if someone folds a thousand cranes, a wish will be granted. I'm not sure if that's true, but it kept me busy when I was trying to get over my issues."

Percy raised an eyebrow and picked up the piece of paper. "Really?"

"Yeah." She paused. "I had an issue with violent tendencies as a child. Well, still a little bit."

Percy laughed. "Yeah, right."

"No, seriously. I tried to hit my-my unofficial brother-I guess, with a hammer when I first met him. That was for self-defense, but that excuse didn't always work for me in court."

He laughed again. "Um, sure. I'll do it. How do you fold one?"

"I'm leaving that up to you." She pulled something else out of her drawer: a wrapped package of origami paper, all in shades of blue. She pulled the top one off with a navy pattern. "Just unfold the crane and try with this one."

Annabeth turned on some music, the same slightly weird kind as the song she played in Central Park, and took out her own piece of scrap paper and a notebook. As he unfolded the crane, she started folding something across from him.

Slowly, their pieces began coming together. His was a slightly crooked blue crane, and hers was a miniature replica of the Empire State Building.

**This is a benchmark! Yay.**

**Review replies:**

**MapleRose150: Thanks! That was so nice of you to say!**

**Booknotbookie: No, no, that's what I guessed you meant, and I'm really happy to hear that. I was just surprised when I first read it, that's all. Thanks so much for clarifying and being so nice about it, though. His shifting moods were pretty close to mine when I was trying to figure out what was happening…with a little bit of refining, but anyway thanks. I really liked the ending too, and *spoiler alert* you will be seeing more Percabeth soon so get ready for some more feels.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry for the wait. I've been struggling with this chapter a little, and procrastinating too much. But I'm done now. **

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: "Holding back the flood in/This skyscraper town/…You can't tell that you're bigger/Than the sea that you're sinking in/And you don't know what you got but you got it at your fingertips" – Got it In You, Banners_

Percy wasn't sure what was happening in his dream. Not that he knew he was dreaming. He kept running towards an edge. Every time he looked down, there was a sluggish river in searing primary colors, like some modern painting in a fancy building. And then there was someone crossing it in a soft white boat. And then the dream restarted, like he lost the round, and Percy was charging down a road again.

This time, maybe his conscious was slowly waking up, but Percy found himself in control of his dream body. But his dream brain was telling him to run harder, faster. His legs weren't so scrawny anymore, and he blazed off the cliff. The air sang of fear of life and death. The wind whistled a haunted lullaby in his ears. The white raft was cruising along again. Percy's cheek was about to smash into the foreign, blurry-looking material of the boat, and he worried he'd upturn it and the mysterious rider would crash into the acrylic lake, but the whiteness slipped right past him. There was no one on it. And then Percy sank inside the water.

For some reason, his main concern how thick and viscous the lake was, like real paint. His dream brain wasn't worried about losing air. All he could think about was the fire that was somehow burning up every inch of his skin.

Percy's eyes shot open, and he took a second to breathe shallowly on the mess of his sweat-soaked cot. His vision was blurred, and he couldn't focus on the cracked paint of the ceiling or the mildew creeping up from the corners or his hair falling into his face. Percy took a second to be numb and think about nothing. The fire was real. It was creeping up from his elbows, and he needed a thousand hands to scratch it. Percy let one hand pat the grimy sheets around him. He found a cracked, uneven edge and grabbed at his phone. With unfocused eyes, he pressed the "contacts" icon and fumbled down the few As he had. The longest one, Annabeth Chase, was around the middle.

"Percy. Hello." Her voice was edged with a tiny bit of sleepiness.

He wasn't sure what time it was. He regretted calling her, but, well, not really. He did notice the red blob in the corner of his screen. Percy was low on battery. As usual.

"Sorry, um," he croaked, trying to warm up his vocal cords, "hi. I don't know. I just can't do this. I can't stay up trying to fold f**king origami cranes. Just go back to sleep. I don't want to stay clean anymore."

"If you want me to go to sleep, then why did you call?" Her tone danced between amusement and seriousness.

"Did you hear me? I'm going to find my dealer."

"I think you're blaming yourself for wanting heroin. That's okay, Percy."

"No. It hasn't been twenty-four hours, and even if I can show you the hundred cranes I'd folded, every one of them sucked. I can't keep this up."

"Why are you calling me? I'm not in charge of your life. Do what you want. Go out, right now, take your money, and find your dealer."

Percy gritted his teeth. "What? What do you even mean? Aren't you supposed to tell me not to?"

"Percy, I'm not telling you anything. I have only been listening. And I know that I can't stop you. Even if I call the cops on you, that won't stop you. It's still your choice."

She heard his desperation. She knew why Percy picked up his phone. There was a tiny part of him that hoped she would stop him. "Annabeth, even if I choose not to, do you think it just happens? Do you think I chose to get terrible foster parents? Do you think I chose to get kicked around on the streets? Do you think I chose to get hooked?"

"No. But you chose to stop. You chose to have happy days. You chose meaningful relationships. You chose to ask for help. Percy, what's the problem?"

"I'll never be able to stop. Even on my deathbed, I'll want a needle. No matter how much positive thinking I do. You were right. Nothing can stop me."

Annabeth blew out an exasperated sigh. "Okay. Then are you waiting for something? Put on your coat and shoes."

"Are you trying to pry a confession from me? I need your help. I still need it."

He almost heard her smiling. "No, I wasn't. Thank you for admitting that. But you need to hear yourself make the choice."

"Annabeth, I'm running out of battery."

"Okay, okay. Can I meet you at a station? You shouldn't have to be by yourself."

"Yes." He hoped she didn't hear him scrabbling to get dressed. There was only one person in the world he could be vaguely annoyed at and run to meet.

"Percy. One thing."

"What?"

"Grover's number?"

"Why?" He pulled it out from his contacts list anyway.

"You'll see. Stay safe out there."

She was more right than she knew. At every corner, he wanted to turn and find that building with the doorknob. And at every guy casting him surreptitious glances from under a hat, Percy felt a sweat prickle across his skin in the freezing winter night. Percy walked as fast as he could to the closest station. He tried not to vibrate in his seat, and he realized he was totally acting like every other addict in the train. Two stations down, he was borrowing another someone else's cigarette. The nicotine wasn't any better than usual. He coughed and scratched his way until he reached a station with a golden blur flying past his window.

Percy ricocheted to his feet and ran out the doors. For some reason, he envisioned a stupid rom-com where the main couple dashed into each other's arms. Percy hurriedly stumbled over himself in trying to slow down.

Annabeth smiled at him. "Hey. You look cold. Sorry for dragging you out here."

"Are we going to your toasty log cabin?"

"Actually, is my place okay?"

Percy raised his eyebrows. He couldn't even imagine what that would to look like. And then he was wondering, with his sleep-hazy brain, if that was even appropriate for a professional. So he blurted out the first thing on his mind. "Don't you see any other people?"

Annabeth cocked her head. "Why?"

"Seeing that you're never answering that for me, I won't either."

She laughed. It was a nice sound. "Touché. Yeah, I do. As many people that are willing to see me."

"Then how do I have twenty-four hours?"

"Well, I think about what's most important." A smile crept into the side of her face. He wondered who was more relieved when the next subway screamed into the station.

"But why do you want Grover's number?" He scrunched up his face. "He's dating someone."

Annabeth shook her head, smirking. "No, not that. I want leverage."

He raised his eyebrows in silent confusion.

"You care a lot about people you know. That's why you're scared of getting close because you don't want to hurt them." Her voice was soft. "You're really loyal, Percy."

He blinked. "What? And why are they leverage?"

"I don't think nothing will stop you from going back to heroin. I know nothing will stop you from protecting people you love. I've heard enough. You stood up to your abusive father, you fought the police, and you're willing to sacrifice your friendships." Annabeth stared at him, her eyes sharp under the florescent lights. She leaned in. "Do you think it will hurt them if they found out you overdosed?"

It was cheesy. It really was like they were in a rom-com, and he sort of wished that was the truth because there would probably be making out in the near future. And he'd have a reply on a script. But, he'd chewed so much gum in the last few days his breath was like an explosion of spearmint. Annabeth had told him gum could keep his mind of heroin. It was barely working. "Addiction is a mental condition." Annabeth's cheesiness was right. But he couldn't let go just yet.

"Percy, I know that. Yes, violence could change with behavioral mod and created more external damage, and has nothing to do with you, but our brains worked the same way. There's a rush of happiness when we can do what we want, and we get used to it, and when we stop, we want the happiness back. Badly." She absentmindedly rubbed her knuckles. They were covered with small scars, Percy noticed. "We need to find other ways to get that happiness. And we have to tell ourselves, over and over, just over and over, that people who care about us don't want to be happy through violence. Through drugs."

"I don't think I'm listening to myself."

"Yeah you are. You called me." She smiled slightly. "Look, some days, it will be hard to listen. Or maybe every day. Then, you need to spend your time with someone else. Someone who will stop you. Do something to try to make yourself happy. I will band up with everyone you know to make sure someone's with you when you need it. And I want you to think twice about whatever you do."

He leaned back in his seat. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. It was extremely wrinkled, but he smoothed it out anyway and started shaping it with small, sharp folds that he could do with his eyes closed. "Thank you."

"Alright, I have some ideas. We can cuddle with all my strays that I'm sure are eager to meet you, pick up some contemporary novels and discuss them together, or work on some puzzles."

Percy couldn't help it. He laughed at her. "That's your idea of fun?" At her distained frown, he decided to take the chance. "What about video games? Heading to the pool? Eating junk food?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Video games at ten AM? I veto junk food. Binge eating is a terrible form of instant gratification."

"I feel like you're trying to tell me to be healthier. The only one left is swimming."

"Yeah, and maybe some vegetables to boost your nutrition." She flashed a grin at him, but he doubted she was joking. "It's pretty cold today. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, we can get warm by moving around."

"Okay." Annabeth drummed her fingers on her seat. "We can't get into an actual pool in our clothes, though. I do have a two-piece with shorts."

He widened his eyes at her, and she burst into laughter. "I'm kidding. The pool has a shop."

"Would it even be open at this time? It's like five in the morning."

Annabeth smirked. "I can pull some strings. We'll have to change stations at the next stop. There's still a couple of hours before work starts for you."

Percy sighed. "And I'm still stuck with that?"

"I'm not going to answer your question." Annabeth took his crane and fixed the wing. "This look nice. Dinner plans?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't want to assume anything about you." She carefully handed the crane back. "A couple of my friends are visiting town. We're getting a homemade dinner and then having an adult sleepover in this cool loft apartment."

"Adult sleepover sounds wrong."

Annabeth sighed, narrowing her eyes at him. "I'll just chalk that up to you being nervous and deflecting. We hang out and then roll out sleeping bags in the living room. You want in? I promise, my friends are total weirdos. They won't mind if you stay up and fold cranes or say something wrong."

"I don't have a sleeping bag. And I don't want you to buy me one."

"There's a small bed in the guest room. You can either have it to yourself or move it out."

"Um." Here was another choice. Maybe she was trying to prove a point. He'd taken a lot of leaps around her. Sometimes, by holding onto some kind of hope he found. Sometimes, just by not thinking about it. But it actually sounded fun. "Okay."

"Are you nervous?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Mostly, I don't know what to expect."

"That's fine. They're going to love you."

"How are you so sure about that? And with everyone you spend time with?" She said the same thing about her strays.

"Because I have personal experience." She flashed him a sunny smile.

That was sarcastic. He thought. Most likely.

-line break-

Percy showed up to work with damp hair and an oversized t-shirt with some random nerdy lingo. After enduring a ton of teasing from the Stolls and Grover, that traitor, they'd gotten back to work. His daily schedule had him assigned to all the magazines and breath mint racks, so Grover got to chat with him most of the time. It was a little annoying sometimes, but it was worth it when he reminded himself that was his best friend, and they got to air everything out into the open. They both had a lot sitting on their chests with Annabeth and Juniper. Even if the situations were extremely different. But Percy didn't mind hearing the contrast.

And then that was when things stopped being semi-normal.

He wasn't sure what happened. They all got out from work, the Stolls fidgeting and snickering when Pike patted his pockets, and getting loudly barked out as their boss locked the doors. And then, Percy and Grover lolled on the sidewalk a little, just to talk and surreptitiously check their phones, when Percy eyed a familiar-looking bumper cross the road a few streets away. He stalked over, and in his hurry, didn't notice Grover running after him.

He knocked sharply on the window, and Annabeth jumped in her seat. Her eyes were huge as she rolled down the windows. "Percy?"

"Are you tracking me? How did you find me?" His words were a mangled mess of confusion and hostility and insecurity. If he was being honest with himself, which he tried to stop doing now that he was sober and hearing things from himself that drove him back to the edge, he didn't want Annabeth to see him at the rest of his life. She heard enough about it, but now he was hyper-conscious of his slumped posture, the stains on his jumpsuit, and the whole _slum-ness _of the streets they were on. Of course, he was a little embarrassed.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm not tracking you. I was heading home and just about to text you to ask where should I pick you up."

"Oh. Okay." He relaxed a little. "Um, home? You live in this area?"

"I was taking a shortcut, but yeah, a couple of miles away."

Percy blinked. They didn't end up going to her place earlier, but he should've realized they were heading in this direction. Why did he never see anything coming with her?

Grover decided to pick this moment to jump in. "Hi. I'm Grover Underwood, Percy's friend. And you are?"

"Annabeth Chase." She stuck out her hand, giving him a small smile. "Nice to meet you. Also his friend."

Grover glanced between them, and slowly took her hand. "She's my therapist," Percy confirmed.

"So, Percy, do you want to get in? I already have everything, we can go straight there."

He chewed his gum for a beat. He was hoping that he could grab a change of clothes first, but he didn't exactly want Annabeth to see where he lived. Even if her home probably didn't look too different.

"Didn't you say you were already heading home?" he edged out.

"Oh, that was just to fill up my bottle. But I can do that at a gas station."

"Perce, where are you two planning on going?" Grover asked a little too loudly.

He wondered if he should be grateful that his friend read into his hesitating. "Her friend's place for the night."

"Oh, cool. Do you have everything?"

Percy shot him with laser eyes while Annabeth said, "Oh, right, I can swing by for you to get some things."

"That's alright, these clothes are clean, and I can brush my teeth when I get back."

"It sounds fun, you might want to stay a bit longer." Grover smiled warmly, like _you can thank me later. _

"Percy, you sure?" Annabeth dropped her voice slightly, so he could realize she was serious and probably reading into him too.

"Yeah."

"Okay, I have an extra toothbrush."

"Well, have tons of fun, guys!" Grover threw an arm around Percy's shoulders.

Percy paused mid-glare when Annabeth said, "Grover, do you have any plans?" She smiled her winning smile, her head angled slightly so her princess curls dropped over her shoulder. She obviously knew exactly how to play to her best features in order to convince someone.

So they were driving down another highway with Grover singing extremely loudly to Green Day. Percy wondered why Annabeth even picked these radio stations. He switched up the volume slightly and murmured, "Why did you invite him?"

"He seemed like he wanted to come. And I know it wouldn't hurt for you to have a familiar face. And, since you weren't specific with him, you can call it a night after dinner and get him to leave first if you need."

Percy leaned back. "Yeah, okay." Was it ever possible to win an argument with her?

"I'm sorry, I didn't know how to ask for your permission. Are you okay with this?"

"No, I actually would appreciate him being there. I was just shocked."

She grinned. "Well, it doesn't hurt to liven things up once in a while, does it?" He rolled his eyes.  
"Now, why are you borrowing my spare toothbrush today?"

Percy looked away. "I live far away."

Annabeth tapped her fingers on the dashboard. "Okay." Her voice was light, crisp.

He sighed. "You can tell I'm lying, right?" It was a little nerve-wracking, just like how his mom would give him a side glance whenever he fibbed.

"Sort of. I know you're covering up something, but I'm not going to call you out on it."

"Why not?"

"Because I need to save some cards. You ever play BS?"

"The card game?" He switched out his gum. "There's no money involved, so no one will play it with me."

"Okay, well, I'm your friend now. We need to play it."

"No. It sounds like I'm set up to lose."

Annabeth laughed loudly, almost drowning out Grover for a moment. "Maybe not. You know why I'm not asking. Will you tell me why you're lying?"

"Why didn't I sign a contract? We used up our two hours yesterday, and this can't exactly be confidential right now."

"Still deflecting," Annabeth sang under her breath. "Look, making yourself vulnerable by talking about your inner thoughts to people who could possibly judge you for it is a life skill. And you can use it outside my office. Or, you know, with people who aren't me."

She'd just brought it up. Percy rubbed his forehead. Now that he was attempting abstinence, with drugs and alcohol and all other good things, his devil-may-care attitude was melting away like the wax on a candle. How did he not notice everyone was looking at him? Staring at his scratching and the dark bags under his eyes. Noticing that he was still in long sleeves on this abnormally warm day.

"Percy?" Annabeth's voice echoed from a distance. He realized she may have been calling him a few times. There was already a new Green Day song playing.

"What?" He tried to squeeze out the word, even though he felt like snapping at her. He tried to flip on a poker face. "There's nothing to be vulnerable about. It would be an inconvenience."

"Sure. Did anything happen while you were spacing out?"

"Yeah. I spaced out." He huffed out a breath. "Fine, I'll get it out into the open. I've been feeling a little weird. Like, paranoid that everyone is looking at me."

"That's not weird. Everyone gets that feeling sometimes."

"I'm just trying to ignore it. I know I shouldn't be bothered by it. I just am."

"Okay. Who's looking at you right now?"

He glanced around. The people in the other cars were either watching the road or looking at their phones. Grover was playing air guitar with his eyes closed. Annabeth was eyeing an emptier lane.

"No one," he sighed. "I get what you're trying to do. But it doesn't work just because I know something rationally. I can't see everyone around me. Anyway, I know, I need to have positive thinking. Listen to the right voices."

"Yeah, okay." She flashed him a grin. "Let's see how that works out."

They headed off one of the smaller exits, and to his surprise, right down the road was a rather eye-catching auto shop. The small strip of cement in front was crammed with cars of every kind. Luxury, vintage, and junkyard hulks. And a huge lime-green neon sign mounted on the front spelled out "Valdezes's Car Shop and Bakery."

"What in the world is that?" Grover murmured.

Annabeth parked on the other side of the street, and they got out. Percy observed that it was something like a warehouse, with a sliding garage door for the front wall. Charming little windows with flowers and gingham curtains circled the top of the building, and an authentic brick chimney puffed out gentle clouds of smoke from the back.

Trailing behind Annabeth, they weaved through the cars, careful to not mess up the spit-shine on the sport cars' hubs or smear rust on their clothing from the unrecognizable metal heaps, and they got to a dirt path on the side. Herbs and vegetables bloomed earnestly in neat patches, some reaching up to their knees. Percy was trying to not gap at how smooth the dirt was. Annabeth went straight up to a screen door on the side of the warehouse-turned shop and knocked sharply.

The door was pushed open, and the warm comforting smell of baking bread rushed out. Grover sighed a little. A young woman stood inside, wearing a breezy white dress under her apron, with a caramel-colored braid coiled on her head and the tiniest hint of laugh wrinkles around her almond-shaped eyes. She grinned widely when she saw them. "Annabeth!" She hugged her lightly, careful to avoid rubbing flour on her.

"Calypso, I am so happy to see you." Annabeth grabbed her hands. "You look great."

She laughed. "No, thank you, you do too." She studied Percy and Grover, huddled together in Annabeth's shadow. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Calypso."

"Percy." He stuck his hands in his pockets when he saw they weren't going to shake. "Nice to meet you too."

"I'm Grover. Um, can I have some of that bread?"

Calypso's eyes sparkled. "Sure. Come in."

The bakery was an entirely different world. Warmly paneled in wood, with any kind of bread imaginable arranged on the shelves, it even smelled cozy, and a glass window opened to a rustic kitchen. A mound of dough, half-knead, sat on the stone counter inside, and he saw a couple of loaves sitting inside the giant brick oven. Some tables, with flowerpots arranged in the middle and ironed tablecloths, had a couple of middle-aged truckers downing cups of coffee. They grinned at the sight of Calypso.

Calypso grabbed a chocolate-colored loaf from a shelf and sliced it open by the cashier, rushing into her kitchen to swipe a pat of butter, which she spread onto the three slices. Percy and Grover stuffed their faces while Calypso watched on with amusement.

"You know, Calypso made that berry pie I offered you that night. That you didn't touch." Annabeth smirked.

Percy licked some melted chocolate from his lip, shaking his head. "Well, now I regret that."

Once they were being fed, she went back to kneading while discussing her plans with Annabeth through the window. "You know we close after the evening rush, so start heating up the dishes in the fridge and eat without us, okay? We'll join you as soon as we can."

Annabeth shook her head. "Come on, Caly. You and Leo are the hosts of this party. We're not eating without you."

"I don't want you all to sit around waiting for us. The food will get cold! Go on, head into the shop, Jason and Piper are here with Leo already."

Annabeth dragged them from their third helpings and pushed them through the heavy-duty metal door in the far wall. Percy's jaw dropped.

A couple of glossy platforms stood around the room, displaying sparkling, expensive-looking automobiles. The rest of the room was littered with twenty junkyards' worth of mechanical tools and car parts, and half-built metal skeletons stood up on bricks everywhere. Across the room, in the mostly-cleared center, two people were hunched over a station wagon. When they waded their way over, one of them immediately straightened up from the Chevy truck she was leaning on. "Hi! Annabeth, I have not seen you in so long."

"I missed you, too, Piper." They hugged, the other girl's dark feather-studded braid falling onto Annabeth. When they released each other, she prodded the broad shoulder of the other guy squatting on the cement floor. He glanced up and fixed his wire-rimmed glasses. "Oh, hello, Annabeth." Grinning, he got up and touched her shoulder. Annabeth pulled him into a hug too, and his lightning-blue eyes fell on them.

"Hi. I'm Percy." The other guy grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. A scar stretched on the corner of his lip as he smiled. "Hello. Jason. It's a pleasure to meet you. How do you know Annabeth?"

Piper's multicolored eyes joined the scrutiny.

"Therapy," he answered. "She's my friend."

They nodded, still smiling. Nothing changed in their expressions like he'd thought.

"And I'm Grover, Percy's friend," Grover helpfully supplied.

Jason suddenly turned to the wagon and kicked something beneath it. They heard a grunt and a muffled "oof."

"What?" an elfish guy muttered, rolling out from under the car. He rubbed his curly head, a hint of a blush hiding under his brown skin. He sat up and wiped his grease-coated hands on his already greasy, and for some reason, burnt-looking overalls. "Annabeth." His voice was flat. "We meet again." He held out his hand to shake.

Annabeth rolled her eyes and carefully shook his hand. Snorting, Piper lifted a rag from her overalls pocket. "It's great to see you too, Valdez. It looks like business is good."

He lovingly rubbed the station wagon with the only clean corner of his shirt. "It is."

"Thanks to Calypso," Piper muttered. Jason swallowed a laugh.

Leo frowned disgruntledly. "Yeah, truckers like grabbing a donut and some coffee. But they also need their cars fixed."

"Sure, Repair Boy. You just keep working on this car." She leaned down to pat his shoulder, and glaring at her, he pulled a wrench from his toolbelt and slid back underneath.

Jason fixed his glasses again. "Calypso said we should head up first. Hazel and Frank should be coming by soon."

"It's not even dinnertime yet. Can't we help out?"

Percy shook his head at Annabeth. He and Grover were going to be pretty useless at this point.

Leo eagerly pushed himself back out. "Well, Calypso said she needed someone to wipe down her counters and sweep the floor. Percy and Grover, would you mind suiting up?" He gestured at the overalls hanging on the wall.

"Um, are you sending Annabeth to the kitchen because she's a woman?"

"No, I'm trying to keep your disturbing bonding away from my shop, Beauty Queen. Do it on your own time. You okay with that, Chase?

"Yeah, I don't mind," she said casually, hiding a grin as she hugged with Annabeth again.

When Leo had went back underneath the car, Jason whispered softly to Percy and Grover, "He's scared of her. That's why."

"Jace, hand me the gas! Who told you to be too fancy for overalls?" Piper started laughing again at Leo's grumping.

Jason glanced down at his purple shirt. "For the record, he said I wouldn't need one. I just don't feel comfortable wearing one." He went over to a can and smoothly picked it up.

Percy and Grover wedged themselves into the overalls and joined Piper in hunching over the station wagon. "So…what do we do?"

"Fix the oil leak on the Chevy. It's getting into the engine."

"Um, how do we do that?" Percy nervously turned to Piper. She shook her head with a smile. "I'm on window cleaning duty." She held out another rag.

"Fine." Leo rolled out. "I'll walk you through it. Grab the lever…."

While Percy and Grover attempted to somehow become mechanics without training, Leo decided to aim for some light conversation.

"So, Jace, where's the ring? You know Beauty Queen will be able to tell the price tag."

"Shut up!" Piper yelled.

"Um. Uh." Jason stuttered. "We're not ready yet. But I know Piper doesn't want a big diamond."

Piper leaned over to diffuse the conversation. "He's just asking because Calypso could tell his diamond was a fake."

"Wait, they're married?" Grover spluttered.

Piper was in stitches. "Yeah, and she told me she regrets it every day."

Leo rolled out. "No, she practically begged me to date her."

Jason was laughing too. "No way. Calypso type was clearly rich and handsome. Leo pleaded her for a date."

"Why did she accept?"

"Grover, I will kick you out of here."

"She accepted so he would stop lurking outside of her windows," Piper managed through her huge smile.

"And then she fell madly in love with me," Leo said, trying to kick Piper. "And immediately accepted my proposal."

"Is this where she rejected his fake diamond?" Grover asked, peeking out from around the Chevy.

"Yeah. Trust me, bro, I will not be making the same mistake." Jason put the empty can aside.

"Well, McShizzle Junior will need a playmate, you hear? "

Piper kicked him first. "Yeah, well, you better pay for enough insurance from the fire department first. I'm not sure if I want to see what McShizzle Junior is like."

"Better than another Beauty Queen or Superman," Leo muttered. "Percy, how's chatting with Annabeth?"

"Uh." It felt like everything went silent. He tightened his grip around his wrench. "It's good."

"I don't believe that. Has she stolen all your lighters and thrown them into a moving garbage truck?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"He's also a full-time pyromaniac. But he used to be worse."

"Shut up, Beauty Queen. Come on, Percy, I'm her success story. Leo Valdez?"

"Sorry. She never mentioned you."

Leo rolled himself inside. "Well?" His voice was muffled. "What's your problem?"

"Leo!" Piper started trying to kick him again. while Jason apologized for him. "He's been through a fire when he was young. He's a little, um, crazy."

"No, it's okay." Percy held out a hand to stop Piper. He took a deep breath. "I'm fine with talking about it. I do it a lot with Annabeth anyway." Jason laughed a little too long. He wondered if Jason also did therapy with her, but he didn't really believe it.

"I have a terribly tragic backstory," he said sarcastically. But he was starting to believe that yes, he was dealt a bad hand, and that it wasn't all his fault. What was, well, he would just have to keep working on that. "I never met my father, and my mom wanted to protect me, so she dated this jerk." He didn't expect any of them to look so understanding. "He was abusive. He killed my mom and got sent to jail." His voice was flat. The story didn't give him pain. Just the aftereffects that weren't said. "So I was dumped in the foster system, but it didn't last. So I ran away to the streets. I was with this gang. A lot of my friends were dead because of the things we got up to." Guilt still washed over him. Every. Single. Time. "And then I got hooked on drugs. The end."

"Wow. Tough story." Leo gave him a small, appreciative nod. Percy held his gaze for a moment before shrugging and looking away.

Piper rubbed at the window absentmindedly. "I think we're a problem children club here. When you miss your parents, it makes you do crazy things. Things that you can't completely regret, right?"

"Yeah, and unless you can't remember them." Jason straightened out his shoulders.

"Woah, guys. Let's cut the PCC meeting short here. And that name sucks. We're all adults here."

"Really?" Piper let out a snort.

Percy leaned his head against the Chevy. His internal ocean was spraying foam everywhere. His emotions were all running to each other. He burned with a little mortification, but he was relieved. These guys heard his "dark" history, knew the worst things he was a part of, and there wasn't anything else for them to judge. He didn't have to worry about which bad qualities he was showing.

And then there was that guilt, newly awoken. Even if it was there every time he woke up. Because he had made the choice not to save some of his loved ones. Annabeth had already tried a few times to dispel it. And he was trying to convince himself too. But that was a battle he would have to keep fighting for a while. Maybe forever. But not right now.

Two people walked in. Piper jumped up and yelled, "Hazel!" They hugged tightly.

"Frank, how long do you guys have to stay in Canada? It's been a year!" Jason pounded the guy's giant back. Leo slowly inched out from the station wagon.

"Hello, Hazel." He smiled nicely and shook hands with her. "And Frank." They silently stared at each other. But Frank suddenly reached out and grabbed him into a bear hug. Leo gasped for air and hugged him back stiffly.

Piper led them over. "This is Percy and Grover. Annabeth's friends."

"Um, actually, I met Annabeth for the first time today. But she asked me to come."

"Well, welcome anyway! It's nice to meet you both." Hazel spoke with a soft Southern accent, but brightly.

"I hope you guys haven't been waiting long. Should we head up now?" Frank asked.

"No, I need these minions." Leo said, affectionately patting Percy's head. "But I'll understand if you guys get hungry when huge the 6 pm load of broken trucks start coming in and crowding up this whole place and making me _super_ busy."

"That's just what Calypso made him agree to," Piper explained to Hazel. "But I know you two are definitely starving after a whole day of horse-riding and archery." Hazel's cheeks turned a tinge red as she nodded. "Why don't you start heating up the food? There should be a ton in the fridge."

"Don't forget to ask Calypso for the password." Leo was rummaging around in his toolbelt, scowling. "She locked it."

Hazel hid a laugh behind her hand. "Yes, we will. Thank you for inviting us to dinner, Leo."

"Yeah, no problem." He rolled back under and started poking at something noisily.

Hazel and Frank went inside a back door after checking into the bakery, and they heard Frank's heavy footsteps on some stairs.

Eventually Leo let them free, and after washing their hands vigorously, they joined Annabeth on the stairs. They had a simple apartment, but it was perfectly neat and smelled wonderful. There was a ton of tacos, veggie wraps for Piper, a casserole, an imitation of Hazel's gumbo, a couple of homemade New York pizzas, garlic bread, and even enchiladas, to Grover's delight. There were brownies in the oven and Jason found a bowl of lactose-free rice pudding ice cream in the freezer.

They feasted.

-line break-

Eventually, it was adult sleepover time. Except it lacked people who acted like adults. They played every game on Leo's PlayStation system, did Truth or Dare, tried be become a braiding train, and then started building a house of cards on the other side of the apartment from Frank. It still didn't stand very well.

Percy was sitting on the carpet, watching the spectacle, and Annabeth was trying to architect the perfect house and unfortunately getting ignored. Eventually, she gave up and moved next to Percy. "I swear, it's like they want it to fall."

He smiled. "Why don't you do architecture for a job?"

"It's a pretty cutthroat job." She shrugged. "It's a whole thing about putting my name on buildings. Not sure if I want to go there yet."

"You really like it, though."

"Yeah." She smiled. "I do. What was your dream?"

"Oh no. I'm not telling you." He turned away, but Annabeth immediately scooted next to his side. "Come on, Percy. Now you've got me interested."

"No way. You're going to make fun of me."

"I will not! The first thing I'll respect is a dream. Anything."

Percy shook his head. He sighed and moved his mouth to her ear. "To be Ariel. The Little Mermaid."

A smile cracked through her face, but she immediately composed herself. "I like that dream. It's a good movie."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "It sounds like you think there's a better Disney princess."

"Um, well, just saying, Rapunzel's got a will of her own. She saved her prince."

Percy shook his head. "No. Ariel was brave enough to live on land. She never even walked before."

"Yeah, but she was willing to throw her life away just for a handsome dude!"

Percy glared at her. "No way. You are watching the movie with me. And you'll see how great it is." He marched up to Leo and tapped his shoulder.

"What?" He hissed, delicately placing a card down.

"Do you guys have a DVD player?"

"What?" Leo gawked at him. "Why do you sound like Hazel?"

Hazel glanced questioningly at him. "Why would I ask about, um, whatever that is?"

"Just answer the question, Leo. Do you?"

"Yeah. It's in the master bedroom, inside the drawers."

"And do you have the all the classics in your collection?"

"Like black and white film?" Leo's eyebrows shot up.

"No, like Disney."

"Ohh. Of course! They're also in the drawers."

Percy triumphantly stalked back to Annabeth while Leo's card sent the house falling down again. "Come on. Let's go to their bedroom. We're watching this the proper way."

Annabeth was laughing. "Let me go make some popcorn while you try to wake up the DVD player."

It took some fishing, but he found _The Little Mermaid. _Annabeth had to help him with the millions of wires, but they plugged in the player to the TV.

Then they realized the problem. The bed was the only thing to sit on. "Um, should we get some dining room chairs….?"

Annabeth bit her lip. "They won't fit in here. We'll just have to sit." The bed was extremely bouncy, and they were jostled when they got on at the same time. Annabeth remembered to grab a tray to protect the spotless sheets from bits of popcorn, and they were ready to watch the movie.

Percy had never, ever imagined he would be in this situation. Even for their sleeping arrangements tonight, he and Grover (who fit in extraordinarily well) had to share the spare bed in the guest room while Annabeth's bag would be rolled out by the couch. It was basically impossible to keep their shoulders from bumping.

"I realized something," he blurted.

"Yeah?" The bed jumped as she turned to face him.

"I wasn't paranoid, I was insecure. But once I got everything into the open, that was it. It didn't matter whether or not they judged me." He smiled a little.

"What about how you feel about yourself?"

"Honestly, because no one judged me, not that bad. Like there was no point to feeling like I wouldn't make the cut of whatever expectations there were, I guess, in the first place and I didn't need someone else to make me think that."

She grinned. "I thought you said we used up our two hours already."

He pushed down on the bed so it would toss her up. When she landed, she smirked and grabbed the remote from him. "Okay, okay. Are we going to watch this or not?"

**Yay, that's it!**

**Review Replies:**

**MapleRose150: Thank you so much! I try my best. That was super encouraging and I hope to keep it up.**

**Josh SB: Wow, that was so nice. Thank you! I was literally just like, "Seriously? Someone thinks that?" I barely put thought into my every specific word and line, so thank you. And I agree, that was a pretty dark chapter. Writing this also messes with my mental health sometimes. I totally get it, but if you're still here, there will be lighter chapters. I mean, Percy's going to have a lot of hopefully realistic ups and downs before reaching a better place, but I do have a good meaning planned for this. Eventually. **


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay, so I'm back…finally. I hope everyone's safe and healthy. By the way, the facts here are accurate, but the experience is a little fictionalized. Also, my plan for the next few chapter has a lot more action and twists, so look forward to those.**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: "The best way out is always through." - Robert Frost_

Percy was told that in real life, cute couples sometimes jumped onto each other to surprise them. His equivalent was withdrawal from heroin addiction.

He was working at Freidman's, picking up a limp bushel of watercress and carefully turning it around to find the bar code. It felt like every touch would bruise the wilted stems.

And, then, bam! He felt flushed, and his skin was prickling. His stomach ached at sudden pain. Percy leaned against the wall, feeling drained all of a sudden. And pissed.

His symptoms popped up on and off. There was a good range, but all of them were unwelcome visitors. Percy had only experienced brief withdrawal before, but he knew that but if he waited any longer the crying fits would probably start. And that was one thing anyone would stare at on the subway. And once, one of his Cro-Magnon roommates once asked him if he was pregnant because of all the puking he did.

But there was nothing he could do about this, unless he returned his body to its normal state: with sweet, sweet heroin flowing inside his veins.

Percy shook himself and pressed the scanner to the watercress, his racing pulse causing him to shake slightly. He knew it was irrational to be mad, and that if Annabeth was here, she would listen patiently and tell him he was completely wrong, but he still was. Percy slept a lot more last night than in a while, even with the cacophony of Grover, Leo, and Frank's snoring. He still woke up hours before anyone else, and pretty much laid there until the weak morning light illuminated the tall pile of origami cranes beside him. Percy stopped counting already. He wondered how many wishes he was going to make before he finally could fall asleep. When the sunrise streamed through the wide, lovingly-cleaned glass windows and alighted in the Valdez's cozy guest room, Percy decided to chose to be okay today. Apparently, his body had different ideas.

He moved on to working with the carrots. There was one thing that didn't change. The longing, the physical craving for another spoon, another needle. He should've gotten used to it by now. But it seemed worse every day, like his tolerance was too high or something. It was pretty much the same with drugs, the more of it, the emptier he felt. But there was no high at all.

The ghost of Annabeth returned. It was still his choice to keep his head up and keep grinding through work. To remind himself that people cared about him and that was somehow supposed to matter. Well, of course it did. Maybe a little too much.

A small smile snuck onto his lips as he remembered the subway ride with Annabeth yesterday. Her attempt at blackmailing certainly didn't hold much power. But she'd figured it out, like usual. His loyalty was the last thing holding him together, and also holding him back. He involuntarily glanced over the tops of the shelves to see Grover's curly head moving back and forth behind a comic book. It was a terrible job, but it wasn't so bad with his best friend.

"Woah, man. What's happening with you? You've got a leaky faucet." Connor peered at him concernedly while holding a sledgehammer, which was a strange combination.

Percy furrowed his eyebrows. "Sorry, what?"

Connor gestured to his face. Percy finally felt something drip from his chin. He cautiously touched his nose and realized it was dripping snot. "Man, that's no good." Travis handed him a towel out of nowhere, and Percy realized he might've been carrying that for his son. It slowed down Niagara Falls just a little.

Grover, with some magical sensor for whenever people were meeting together without him, sidled over. "Dude. What's happening?"

Percy looked at the ground. "No idea." He shrugged. "Nothing good."

Travis gave him a long glance. "Did you catch the flu?"

Percy absentmindedly wondered if Katie made him stew, or would, for their son. "Probably not. I'm good." He wiped his nose one last time. When the Stolls wandered away, he gave Grover a sideways glance. "Withdrawal."

Grover's eyes widened. "Seriously? You're coming clean?"

Percy felt like he would jinx it if he nodded. He shrugged again. "Annabeth is pushing me."

Grover's face split into a grin. "Well, that's so good for you!" He swept Percy into a big hug. Percy tried not to dribble snot on his shoulder and quickly pushed him off before the Stolls could notice. It was best to keep illegal business to themselves. Generally, everyone kept to themselves.

"Thanks. It's not going to be fun, but it's going to be better than how I am right now." Percy studied Grover for a minute and realized that he'd stopped dealing for a while already. The last time he even stepped inside a party was that…drinking incident. Huh. Who knew, they were both going soft, like Clarisse would say. Just because there were women in their lives.

_I think…. I'm okay, _Percy thought to himself. He was glad he made that choice.

-line break-

An hour later, the longing was suffocating him. Percy hunched over in the middle of the toothbrushes and stationary aisle, feeling like screaming. He dropped the scanner. In a few moments, his will, struggling against his addiction, melded with it and his brain was yelling, "Go go go!"

With jerky steps, he lelt the grocery, the door falling shut as Grover glanced up. And then he broke into a run.

His vision was flashing white. Voices and faces flashed at the edges of his sight, but he ignored it. He only felt his broken, incomplete body soaring down the street. He could've taken the turns and crossed the streets with his eyes closed. Right, left, and he felt the house with the basement throbbing against his footsteps. That was probably his imagination, because he couldn't see it yet.

Everything was blurring together, colors and sounds. He stumbled, and falling in a flash of red, quickly straightened and dragged himself up. He distantly felt his breaths fall out raggedly. The whole world seemed to melt, and he saw something black coming up ahead. He almost fell into it when a voice sliced into his mind.

"Percy?" It was a young voice, deepened slightly from adolescence but caught up with memories. It had a vague, elegant accent that sounded high-class and like a distant world. A heady mix of toughness, shock, and well-hidden fear. That was a lot like Percy's.

Percy looked up into Nico di Angelo's dark eyes. His charging, speeding, melting brain didn't formulate an answer. He didn't want to take the onslaught of guilt right now.

"Why are you here?" Nico's voice was sharper. Dancing against an ancient anger. "You don't live here."

"I can't-" his voice was garbled. "I need a high." Something was stopping him from walking around Nico. Maybe it was confusion. Some part of him was conscious enough to want to hide away.

Something changed in Nico's eyes, like the irises were suddenly lighter than his pupils. Just a little bit like Bianca's. He was quiet for a moment. "No."

Percy blinked. His blood slowly stopped rushing, returning to its usual jogging pace. What was he doing?

"Not now." Nico's face was tense.

"Why?" Percy whispered. He tried to speak loudly, but his voice was trying to run away from him.

"Go back home." Nico narrowed his eyes. "This is stupid."

Percy slumped. He wanted to yell that of course he knew that. And maybe some people did stupid things to make them stupid happy, and they hated themselves for being stupid but they didn't know any other way to be.

"Please." His voice was hoarse. He couldn't believe he was pleading with Nico, and that it took him so long. Maybe he was asking for something else.

Nico didn't budge. He never did, even when a huge kid cut his place in line for scraps, Nico would nonchalantly take his rightful place in front of him. He'd gotten into his fair share of gang fights, but Reyna said it was a good quality. "One that would probably end him someday, but good while it lasted." She never complimented any of Percy's qualities, so he saw it as quite formidable.

"Go home."

Percy dropped his head to the ground. "I-I don't want to. Anywhere else."

He didn't want Harvey to see him like this. Not because he was protecting the boy, but maybe he was protecting himself from losing another friend. And his roommates, well, there was nothing better to say about them.

"Where?" Nico snapped.

Percy's mind went wild for a moment. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be alone or not. He didn't know anyone who would take him in. He thought of Annabeth. How she was always waiting for him behind that door, ready to listen. With a cup of coffee. He remembered the last letter: "e." The word was just "breathe."

He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. He exhaled. "Grover's home," he said. It was the only address he knew.

Percy didn't even think Nico would bother to find out. Instead, Nico held out a skinny arm. His skull ring glinted. It was identical to Reyna's, out of some random coincidence, and he quickly glanced away. Percy stared at Nico in confusion.

"Go ahead. I know he lives that way."

Percy slowly turned around. He wondered, for a second, if Nico was going to stab him while he was turned around. When that didn't happen, he started walking down the street. He didn't think that because Nico was a double-crosser. But he felt like he would deserve it. To his surprise, as he continued down the block, there were feather-light footsteps trailing him.

Nico followed him all the way to Grover's block. Percy held his breath, too afraid to turn around. At the steps of the building, he stopped, but Nico impatiently jutted out his pale chin. They both boarded the elevator and silently stood, side-by-side. The floor dinged.

"Do you have a key?"

"I know where the spare is." At the door, he reached underneath the floor carpet and pulled slightly at one of the plastic, fake wood boards. He pulled out the slightly dusty key and went inside.

Nico awkwardly stood by the door. Percy, who was just hanging up his coat, wondered if it would be appropriate to welcome him into Grover's apartment.

"Is there food?"

Percy peered into the fridge. There was some chicken potpie Calypso insisted they take home. "Yeah."

"Does the bathroom work?"

Percy quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah."

"Good." Nico ventured one step inside. He held out his hand. Percy stared at it in confusion. Was he supposed to hold it?

"The key," Nico said with a sigh in his voice.

Percy dropped it into his palm and realized he should've asked why first. "That's the only spare. Why do you want—"

"I'll give it to Grover. Stay here. You'll start wandering off soon." Nico fixed him with one dark look, and then closed the door. For a moment, Percy saw Bianca's face again. The siblings weren't so similar. At least, more recognizably related than Jason and Thalia (who he's saw a picture of). They had the same smooth, black-as-night hair curling around gently olive skin, and the same endless, iridescent black eyes. But Bianca's cheeks were full and happy, even with just street scraps, and her full lips often lifted into easy, trusting smiles. Nico's face was more angular, his bones poking through his pale skin. His eyes used to be huge, big pools ready to drown everything they saw.

But the mirage ended. Even though he was standing outside, Percy knew Nico couldn't look more different. He was older, his face framed with frown wrinkles, his jaw wider, the set of his lips a firm line. The dark shine of his eyes was a cold glint. He had the hardness of a boy forced to grow up too quickly, which Bianca never faced entirely.

A few clicks came from the outside. Only then did Percy realize he was being locked in.

Desperation alighted in him. He pounded on the door. "What are you doing? What if there's a fire?"

"Then you better not be smoking any weed," Nico said flatly. "Climb out the window."

Neither of them liked heights. Percy glared at the door, but he didn't dare protest. He deserved this and more. "Sorry," he whispered, too quietly for him to hear. It was for everything. It was for being a mess Nico had to take care of. For not taking care of him on the streets. For being spiteful, almost glad that Nico was going through the same thing he did and losing the last person he had on Earth, and not daring to ask him how he was doing. And for promising he would take care of Bianca before Percy brought her to a cesspool of dealers.

There weren't any footsteps outside the door. "Call Grover," Nico said, and then left.

Percy sank onto Grover's sauce-stained carpet. Bianca's eyes, huge with fear, still loomed in his memory as the handle of a gun glinted under the streetlights behind them. Percy wished that he last thing he could've done was given her a hero's death, like Silena, running straight to the police. Instead he dropped her into the same sticky web he fell into, even though he was well-aware that those criminals were willing to do anything to get at him for trying to crawl out of the web himself. But he took Bianca right up to the spider. Because he thought his car was a safe place. But it didn't have bulletproof windows.

Percy checked his phone battery. He still wanted to talk to Annabeth. Quickly, easily, he shoved those memories back into the deep, dark hole. He left Grover a brief, awkward text: "I'm in your home. Will talk later," and picked out Annabeth from his contacts.

He could swear she was grinning after he told her everything. "So, how do you feel right now?"

"Annoyed. With some self-pity. Also guilty, that I didn't apologize to Nico."

"Well?"

"I mean, he just never brought it up."

"Percy, it's not your fault. Sometimes, there's no one to blame. Both of you will have to figure that out."

He sighed. "Maybe." He sat down in one of Grover's scratched kitchen chairs. "I left my origami stuff at home." Sometimes he stuffed a few papers in his jumpsuit, but otherwise the Stolls would tease the h*ll out of him and Pike would probably confiscate this stuff.

"Any scrap paper there?"

He poked around. This was almost his second home, and he was pretty familiar with it. Juniper had clearly spent some time organizing Grover's kitchen. There was a stack of receipts, and some takeout menus.

"Well, some might be a little too thick to fold properly, but receipts will do the trick."

He was curious about something. "Have you folded a thousand cranes?"

"Three thousand." She laughed a little. "One for my mom to come back, for my stepmother to leave, and then for my twin brothers to stop messing up my life. I was kind of a drama queen. I didn't try it for anger management, but it is pretty calming, right?"

He grinned. "Yeah."

"Well, I'm sure there's something to do there. Does Grover have a DVD player?"

"Uh…no."

"Is there any other way to check out _Tangled_?"

He groaned. "Yes. He wrote down his second cousin's Netflix password."

"Sounds like a plan. Um, listen, I've got to go."

"Okay." He hoped he didn't sound too disappointed.

"Sorry, Piper needs help picking out a dress. Not sure why she's getting it from me, but she wants a companion for dinner with Jason's company."

"You mean the airplane designers?"

"Yup."

"Wow."

Annabeth laughed. "Piper doesn't think so. She says the New York branch is more boring than the one in LA, and that she couldn't bear to invite anyone else but me. Otherwise, I'd have asked you to be my dinner date."

He blinked and was silent for a few moments. "Oh, okay. Thanks…?"

"Actually, though, Hazel wants to invite you to Christmas dinner."

Oh no. The holiday season. He usually didn't celebrate. He would love to with Annabeth's friends, who were flying in from LA and Vancouver just for that, but it also sounded like a lot of habits and practices he'd long stop doing.

"Isn't she staying at a friend's place?"

"Yeah, but Cecil doesn't mind sharing his kitchen. We'll eat there, and then head to my place for the festivities."

"That sounds nice." He paused. "I'll think about it."

"Look, I know it's a lot to ask. But you need something to keep you busy. And they can also be your friends, you know."

"Right."

"Don't be afraid of interrupting me once you're done with _Tangled. _I won't push it too much into your face if you decide you like it better."

"That's not happening. Have fun with schmoozing. I thought you said Piper needed you?"

"Well, not really. She looks great in everything. Bye!"

He hung up and looked at her contact page, trying to stuff away his cheesy smile. A text from Grover popped up, but his screen went dark. He didn't know if he should be relieved he was out of battery. After digging out a stained charger, Percy switched on Grover's TV and went to Netflix. It felt a little weird, getting so comfortable by himself, but he knew that Grover could do the same thing to him. If the electricity bill was getting paid at his place.

As the familiar Disney castle loomed before him, Percy realized he was really grateful for his best friend. And maybe some new ones.

-line break-

_Tangled _was good. Maybe a little too relatable. But nothing compared to _The Little Mermaid_. He made sure to tell that to Annabeth through the background noise of gentle violin music and clinking champagne glasses and low, polite chatter. Piper subtly whispered to him that she was bored out of her mind, and then he heard Jason chuckling and shushing her. Annabeth hung up when the kicking began.

He got off the couch, a little bored, halfway contemplating crawling out the window to go down that street again with the dealer's house when the front door busted open.

Grover was fuming in the doorway. Percy stopped in the hallway. Grover stomped inside and gripped Percy in a hug. Or a chokehold. He couldn't really tell.

"Why would you scare me like that? Couldn't you tell me it was bad?" He clenched him harder. "Do you know how happy I am that you're still safe? Why didn't you respond?"

Percy sighed into his shoulder. He smiled slightly as they pulled apart. "Thanks for coming."

"Pike wouldn't let me off work. I'm sorry I wasn't faster."

"It's okay. I used up most of your tissues, though." To any normal eyes, someone would've thought he was bawling his eyes off over a Disney princess movie, but his nose was runny by itself. Most of the time, anyway.

"That's all good. Are you going to stay?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure what's going to happen if I go outside. Can I stay?"

"Yeah, of course. Juniper is coming over and making some chili and pasta. Sounds good, right?"

Percy forced a smile. He wasn't hungry. He was probably going to puke if he did eat. "What are you going to be doing?"

"Um, Juniper's helping set up a festival in Central Park. She wants me to help paint some posters. Do you want to help?"

It seemed like they were involved in one eco-friendly event after another. "Sure…? Do we have to make them look nice?"

Grover laughed. "I hope not. I think we just have to make the background black or something."

So that is what they ended up doing. Grover spread some ancient newspapers across the floor, and they laid on their stomachs and spread black paint on the yellowed recycled sheaves of paper. Percy had already gotten black splotches, fanned in the elegant shape of paintbrush bristles, all over his face and clothes. Juniper laughed and took pictures that would be included in the promo video, he was told. When she wasn't acting like the paparazzi, she painted beautiful trees and Earths on the dried sheets of paper or used gel pens to spell out the event's name. Grover dutifully painted and stared dreamily at Juniper.

When she left to take a call from another event-planner, Percy saw the way his face dimmed slightly. He started squeezing out a new blob of paint onto the newspapers. "Dude. You are so into her."

Grover laughed. "I just can't believe she likes me back, you know. She's so amazing, and she picked me."

Percy started smearing the paint into his paintbrush. He'd crashed plenty of their dates before, since they never really minded him, but he never got a chance to discuss things alone with Grover. "How do you know she's the one?"

"Well…I don't really. I haven't really thought about that. Like for soulmates and all that, who knows. She just makes me happy, and a better person, so I want to be around her."

"Then, do you want to spend the rest of your life with her?"

Grover raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn't question his sudden curiosity. "Yeah. I do. I want to see what kind of children we could have, how they could protect the Earth for a little bit longer. It's just that, even when we fight, I never get annoyed at her. I just can't."

"What if she becomes a different person? Or, I don't know, is hiding something?" He didn't think that would actually happen with Juniper. She and Grover were clearly meant to be. But there was no one else to turn to about this. Well, there was Travis and Katie, but he didn't want to learn about their relationship. That would be too jarring.

Grover cocked his head. "I know who she is, and I don't think she could be acting out her kindness and spirit. If she becomes a different person, I'd still want to get to know them. But Juniper is not the type to hide, or to change."

Percy painted in the last corner of the poster and left it to dry on the counter. "Have you ever told her you loved her?"

"Um." Grover let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah. It was terrible. She didn't hear what I said."

"And then?"

"Once she understood me, she said she loved me too. And now we say it on the phone and everything." He smiled lazily. He also looked stupid, and Nico would probably also consider this to be, but Percy thought it was a better kind of stupid.

"What if she didn't?"

"Um, my heart would be broken…?" Grover shrugged and peered at him strangely. "Why are you asking all these questions, Perce? This isn't about me and Juniper, is it?"

He shrugged and slid to the ground. He didn't feel in control of his emotions right then. " I don't know." He avoided Grover's eyes. "Do you remember the time-the time, um, I was drunk and told you a lot?"

"Yeah. Pretty well."

Percy breathed out a laugh. "I don't know. I think it meant it."

Grover was suddenly throwing an arm around him, and his hand slapped down a drying poster, which smeared paint down Percy's side as it fell. They both busted into laughter, and Juniper gaped in surprise as she walked into the hallway.

"Alright, you too need a break. Bathroom," she ordered. "I knew I made the right choice in getting washable paint."

The paint had gotten into his hair, too, but it was the same color, and they continued to laugh as he tried washing it out. "Dude," Grover murmured as he scrubbed his hands with soap. "What are you going to do?"

"No idea. I'm assuming the right thing to do is tell her?"

"Well, the good thing is that you probably won't lose her as a therapist. I mean, you need to actually recover to leave, right?"

Percy rolled his eyes. "How is that helpful?"

"I mean, if she was just a friend and she didn't like you back, then you guys might not be able to be friends anymore…"

Percy splashed him with water. "Thanks for assuming she won't, um. You know."

"I mean, maybe not. But you'll find the right time. There's definitely something to gain if she does agree. She's a great person."

"I just thought that I was drunk. Why can't we just have a normal relationship?"

"Maybe because you belong together. Like, together together."

"That's pretty hard to imagine."

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with her?"

Percy stared at him until he realized he was parroting his question from earlier. He splashed him again. "I don't know!"

"Maybe you should be discussing this with her. I'm no physiatrist." Percy wiped his hands on the towel and quickly left the bathroom.

Maybe another reason he and Grover stopped having deep talks for a while was because of how immature his best friend was. Even if he found him kind of funny.

-line break-

Juniper cooked for them, but Grover also ordered some pizza in case they got hungry later on. He decided they should binge The Walking Dead, so they all scooched together on his couch and the other two chowed their food down animatedly. At least they weren't eating popcorn, so Percy wouldn't reach into the bowl and discover they were holding hands there. He was pretty used to being a third wheel, but he wished they would just turn it down a little more around him.

And then the bouts of depression came on. It was a bad time for a date night. Or even a friendly gathering, whatever. A tide would suddenly rush over him, and even though Percy never experienced drowning, he couldn't fight his collapsing emotions. Warm, salty tears kept racing for his damp cheeks. His breaths shuddered. At the start, he wanted to say he was crying for Bianca. Because there were so many things he could've done to prevent her death. Keeping her safe didn't mean keeping her by his side. But it did mean staying away from his bloodthirsty dealers, even if they were out for his head. But he was too shallow, too caught up in another web. He was crying because his fingers wanted another needle, and he thought he would die from his own thirst for heroin before he could get one. Then he cried because he couldn't cry for Bianca. Eventually, the weeping stopped coming with emotions he could decipher.

For some reason, he preferred crying in front of Annabeth. He could see Juniper grab the remote to pause the show, but Grover would put his hand on top of hers to stop her, and she would put it back down, and then they would pointedly look away from him.

He vaguely remembered he didn't take his antidepressants in the morning. Five episodes later, the bout passed enough for him to see straight through his tears. He shoveled out a few goodbyes and grabbed his coat. The cold was like a slap, straightening him up for a little. His tears seemed to freeze on his face. It did nothing for his still-racing heart, but he mostly only thought of keeping himself warm. Grover insisted on walking him home, which was probably necessary, because Percy found his feet turning in the wrong direction a couple of times.

"Sorry for ruining tonight." His breaths came out in little clouds. "I know it's not me, I can't help it, but it's still because of me."

"No, it's okay. We don't mind. We're happy to be around you, Percy."

He still found it hard to believe. "Thanks. But I'll let you two enjoy the rest of the night."

"Try and eat the pizza, okay? It's better than nothing."

"The whole apartment stinks when someone pukes," he muttered, his stomach reeling slightly at the thought of food. "But there's always someone hungover."

Grover laughed. "Then no one will notice. I'll see you at work?"

"Yeah. Good night."

"Good night."

Percy climbed up the stairs alone, feeling his legs cramp. He didn't notice how much skinnier he was getting.

When he opened the door, there Harvey was, grinning up at him. Percy hid a yawn behind his hand and smiled back.

"Hey. How are you?"

Harvey shrugged and fidgeted in place to keep warm. "Not bad."

Percy headed towards Harvey's cot. The boy quickly slipped back underneath his blankets as Percy leaned his back on the cold wall. "That's good."

"What did you do?"

"I hung out at Grover's place. Juniper was there. We helped paint some posters and watched TV."

"Who's Juniper?"

"His girlfriend."

Harvey solemnly blinked at him. "Was it a date?"

"No." Percy set the pizza box down.

"Was Annabeth there?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, if she was there, it would've been a double date."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Except we're not dating."

"Why not?" Percy noticed his eyes dart to the pizza box.

"Um. She's my friend."

"Then why do your pupils get bigger when you talk to her?"

"What?"

"Anson left a National Geographic magazine here once. It says that your pupils get bigger when you look at someone you like."

Percy took a deep breath. "Just because I like her doesn't mean we have to be dating."

"Well, you should. You clearly like her a lot. You call her, like, every morning."

Percy coughed slightly. "I talk to you every day."

"Yeah, but not in the same way you talk to her. It's always, 'oh, hello, Annabeth.'" He made his voice go all high and fluttery.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't talk like that."

"And you're always folding those things. Are they for her?"

"No. They distract me."

"From thinking about her?"

"No!" That was perfectly true, he still thought about her when he folded.

"Fine. But I think you're going to do something about it."

"How are you so sure?"

"She doesn't sound stupid to me. If you don't do anything, she'll figure it out. And you'll have to do something then."

"Sure. Whatever you say."

"Does she wear lip balm or anything?"

"I don't think so? How would I know?"

Harvey didn't give him an answer, just frowned.

"Fine. It's just regular Chapstick."

He smirked. "So you haven't kissed yet."

"Alright, let's stop this discussion."

"Fine. Are you eating that pizza?"

Percy softened slightly. "No. You can have it."

Harvey dug into the ice-cold slices. Percy tried not to be a creep and watch him eat, but he did exactly that. This kid should get more food and better clothes if he wanted to grow and get smarter. He deserved so much more.

Harvey looked up from chewing the crust and licking grease from his lips. "You know, that book by your bed. It looks interesting. What is it about?"

"Greek mythology."

"Cool! But I mean, like, specifically."

Percy went over to grab it. "Well, it's set after the Trojan War, where the main character, Odysseus has to go back home…"

He still stayed up that night, but after Harvey finally dozed off, he fell asleep and slept all the way until morning.

And in the midst of others' snores and muttered sleep-talking, he made another choice to have a good day.

**Review Replies:**

**PercabethToInfinity: Really? Thank you! I feel like angst makes romance better. Even though this is just the early stages, but there's a lot more to come. **** It's going to take some waiting, but hopefully it'll be even more awesome.**

**MapleRose150: I totally know what you mean! Like when your face hurts from smiling too hard and also laughing—anyway, thank you so much! I'm so happy I've been able to do that to someone. Even though it could be kind of unpleasant. There will be a few more chapters like that coming soon-ish…you'll see ****.**

**Guest: Seriously? That's amazing! I'm glad you've enjoyed it, but now you're going to have to wait it out for new chapters…sorry. But thank you! I'll definitely be adding more themes, so it's great that you like them. Hopefully I'm keeping up the good work? I'll do my best to.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Look who's back. Just taking a break from tv-show bingeing.**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: When someone who has been drinking a lot of alcohol stops, the brain will try to lower amounts of dopamine and endorphins, creating a sense of anxiety and stress. Long-term, an alcoholic will no longer feel normal when they are sober because of losing other physical functions. _

"Can today be different?" Percy stared at his coffee. The creamy swirl of "J" had already melted into the rest of the blue espresso. He asked for the least fancy drink Annabeth could make. He couldn't taste much else than gum anyway, which he decided to put a hold on for now.

Annabeth's cool gray gaze brushed over him. His skin tingled in response. It felt like a while since he'd been around her.

"Sure. Different how?"

Percy raised his eyebrows. "I don't want to sit around talking about my feelings. I'm not doing so well, and that's because I'm trying to come clean. Can we move on?"

"Okay." Annabeth leaned in. "Move onto what?"

He had no idea. He didn't want to discuss how slowly time seemed to be moving for him, how everything seemed to be emptying of meaning, and how he wanted to make the right choices and hold onto that idea but it seemed wrong because it was his third morning making the promise and it hadn't worked out yet.

"You decide. I don't know."

Annabeth grinned, and all her passiveness disappeared as she straightened. "Okay, you're getting signed up as a volunteer." Before he could protest, she was dialing someone's number. Percy didn't hear any of the murmured conversation. He sunk down in regret and eyed her warily when she was done.

"What am I volunteering for?"

"A soup kitchen. I need a sous chef."

"What the h*ll?" He burst out suddenly. His lack of sleep was making him irritable, and he didn't want to think about being a kind contributor to society at this moment. At any moment.

She continued on like she didn't hear. "Do you have any sporty clothes at home? We could swing by on the way."

"No. Why would I?"

She drummed her nails on the table, absentmindedly staring at a spot on the wall behind him. "Then is an oversized t-shirt and shorts okay? We'll have to head back here anyway."

"Why are you ignoring my questions, Annabeth?"

She flashed him a sunny smile. "So I can present you with a full plan that you won't be able to refuse."

"And why can't I?"

"Because it'll be good for you." She grabbed her coat. "Come on, get up. It's up to us to make lunch for the soup kitchen. And then it'll probably warm up enough for a jog around Central Park."

"I doubt it."

She opened the door for him. "Then we can warm up by running. You could use a boost of endorphins from exercise, and keep up your immune system. Also, I'm betting you haven't been eating, and the soup kitchen has free lunch."

"Wait, but why is it up to us?"

"It's the holiday season, people are heading to their family. Maybe on Christmas eve the kitchen will be filled with eager, good-willed volunteers, but right now it's slow. But there are still hungry people."

"What about your parents?"

"They'll call. My mom has a special place for me on her calendar, and my dad sees me a couple times a year. But Christmas is my step-mom's thing. I don't belong in the picture."

He rubbed his hands together as they left the building. "I imagine it's better with friends." He couldn't imagine anything replacing Christmas with his mom. Not that he could remember much. Just blinking lights and her warm smell in the kitchen. And that was good enough.

"Yeah. Sometimes we head to LA to see Jace and Pipes, but its pretty much tradition that Piper brings a wetsuit just in case, and Hazel tells us she loves her elementary schoolers and shows off their cute drawings but clearly needs a break, and Leo sets something on fire."

Percy gave a small smile. "Does Piper want to swim in the Atlantic Ocean?"

"Surf," Annabeth corrected. "She's a surfing instructor back home. She's also supposed to be trying out this wildlife-slash-traditional-Cherokee-ranger job for kids in the spring, but I can only hope she doesn't boss them around too hard."

They swiped their cards on the turnstile and raced into the train for seats. "That sounds cool. Any other traditions?"

"Okay. We try to invite people, keep it from just being some secret club thing. Well, at least, as much that can fit. Not everyone stays for the whole thing. Jason's sister, Thalia, is probably bringing a giant gang of her besties. Even though she doesn't call them that. And there's not much ceremony with gift-giving, we try to only give people stuff if they need it. Leo tried to dump a bunch of junk on us one year, so the rule kind of fell into place. But everyone has to bring food. Not homemade, just something to keep people at bay. I don't know what happens to appetites at holidays. Leo's the gamemaster, and we vote on what Christmas-themed videos to watch."

He sank back into his chair. He didn't want to be festive for festivities. Or to borrow Annabeth's friends, no matter what she said. "Okay."

She didn't re-remind him about the offer, and he was glad about that. There were still two weeks left to figure out how he could un-party pooper himself, though right now it looked like jumping back on the wagon.

Annabeth led him to the soup kitchen. It was a small, leaky building in the back corner of a strip mall, and it smelled like spoiled milk and canned cream-of-mushroom soup. She headed in through the front door, greeting a few people nursing chipped mugs of instant coffee and pushing him into the kitchen. He swallowed a scream and hoped his back didn't tense too much under her brief brush. He didn't like to be touched, especially when he was caught unawares. But when the fear faded, it was nice.

The kitchen was clearly suited for a lot more people, with more wide counters than equipment, and a musty pantry behind a heavy-duty freezer. Annabeth went straight to a small, cheesecloth-covered bowl sitting beside the foot of the fridge. Percy didn't even see it. She carried it to the counter. Percy leaned over, wondering what was underneath the cloth, but then she headed to the sink. "Wash your hands, first thing in a kitchen. And put on an apron."

He picked out a mostly-unstained navy one and joined her at the sink. Their hips were almost touching. She scrubbed thoroughly and handed him the soap. Percy glanced over his shoulder while rinsing his hands to see the bowl. Annabeth hung up the cheesecloth, and a yeasty smell ran into the air.

"Wow," he murmured, wincing slightly. "That's strong."

"It's good, isn't it? It's been rising most of this morning. Make sure to completely dry your hands. Come here." He walked to the counter she was laying out condiments on and, at her order, held out his hands.

"I know I'm making you do this, but you still need to know why you're doing anything. But we don't have that much time, so we have to talk and work." She sprinkled flour on his hands and shook her head before he could wipe them clean. "Grab half the dough from the bowl. Make sure you get all of it. Hold it there." She dusted the stone surface of the counter with more flour. "Now knead."

He gave her a side glance, so Annabeth mopped up some flour on her fingers and spoke as she demonstrated. "This is a soup kitchen. No matter what situation you're in, you can give. It's a virtue, and it's cheesy, but that shouldn't stop you. And some people find cooking therapeutic. You're making something nourishing, and if you follow all the steps it'll turn out right. Even if it doesn't, it's a pretty nice process. Your turn."

As he carefully fingered the dough, Annabeth headed to the three ancient-looking ovens and took out a baking tray. She lined it with parchment paper and shook a can of Pam a couple of times before coating the sheet. "Today's menu is bread rolls, pork chops, broccolini, and tomato soup. I'm guessing we'll be serving thirty people, if there's more we can always bust open some Campbells." She disappeared into the pantry and headed outside with an armful of food. "Normally, we should prepare everything first, but there's a lot of dough in there. Separate it into small balls."

It was a busy morning. He didn't take a break from peering at the rolls in the oven or stirring the soup and tasting it. Annabeth gave him the broccolini to cook, and they both stood at the burners, pushing food around their frying pans.

"Are you feeling it now?"

"What?" He peered at the green leaves. She said to make them wilted, but they looked wilted already.

"How therapeutic this is?"

"Not really. It's kind of rushed."

"Well, this is a lot of food."

"No kidding." The pot the tomato soup was bubbling away in was half the size of him.

"But the great thing is, everyone has an experience with food. This isn't your first time cooking, is it?" She flipped over a pork chop, which was seared brown and glistening with juice.

"No, sometimes my foster parents wanted me to help out. And on the streets whoever the assigned cook was liked to drag younger kids to stir and blame if the stew got burnt. It was a pretty easy job."

"You're not bad. Got any dish in particular?"

"Um. Spaghetti-Os?"

She laughed. "Okay."

"And I assume you have your own signature dish?"

"No. I don't cook much. All the knowledge is in my head." She winked.

He rolled his eyes. "How does this taste?" Percy handed her a fork.

She grimaced. "Is that sea salt?"

"So what?"

"It's okay. Just don't add more."

"Fine." He pushed the greens around. "How did you find this place?"

"Don't you ever wander around New York, hoping to get lost?"

He didn't deign to answer that Didn't anyone hate her and hope to shot her if she rounded their corner? Not that he would wander into someone else's territory. "I thought it would be connections in the whole public-help industry."

"No. They didn't want to let me into the kitchen. How often do you think psychiatrists are trusted?"

_More than drug dealers, _he thought darkly. "But you won your way into their hearts by being such an eager volunteer?"

"Yeah. They're always understaffed. Check on the soup."

He gently poked another spoon inside the smooth broth. It tasted tangy and sweet and spiced with mysterious magic. Not simple and bland, like the stews Bianca sometimes cooked for him if he was heating up, but it was warm.

And now Bianca would never make another one with ingredients he never found out about. He scratched his wrist.

"How does it taste?" Annabeth asked, breaking into his reverie.

"Good." He capped the steam back inside with the lid and rinsed his spoon. "Really? You couldn't have kept an eye on the broccolini for me?"

"They're fine. It'll take a moment." She kept her eyes on the pans. "I know you want things to look different, but as a friend, can I ask how you are?"

"I don't know." Sometimes, when he laid awake at night, he thought about how strange it was that he, a grown man, went around professing all his feelings to someone who was a stranger not long ago. The release really did feel good. But having to gather up his courage and hope and jump off the diving board into a dark, murky pool he couldn't see the bottom of each time they spoke; it was exhausting, at the same time something he could get used to, and always a little exhilarating. Even when it was a chill conversation out of nowhere. He hoped that stayed.

"There's no emotional roller coaster or something. There's always this craving, and sometimes sadness, but not much else. I'm reflecting on a lot of my memories now." He turned to look at her, and she nodded slightly to let him know she was paying attention, and he just watched her cook. "But there are some times, where I'm happy, sort of, and it's just crazy. It feels so rare, and alien, but it's nice."

She flipped some more chops. "It's not as easy to find that when you're withdrawing. It gets harder. I don't have anything else to tell you."

He shrugged. Annabeth never tried to comfort him with cheesy Hallmark lines. "I feel more, without the drug. Never so sad. I think that's a good thing."

She grinned, and quickly swallowed it before it split her face. "Yeah. Hold on to that."

"Can I turn off the heat now?" He grabbed one of the giant metal tubs.

"Okay. That's enough to serve twenty people. Get the next couple of bushels."

The oven dinged, and Annabeth just about threw her spatula at him. "Take over the chops." She squatted in front of the oven and carried out the tray. The smell of warm bread and onion seasoning heightened in the room. She peered down at them. "What happened to the egg wash? Did you just pour it over the rolls?"

"Um, I thought you did it," he yelled over the loud sizzling of the chops.

Annabeth quickly turned around, but he knew she was blushing. "Turn down the heat!" she shrieked back. "They're going to burn!" Annabeth moved the rolls onto a rack at top speed and ran back to him. "I knew I shouldn't have brought you into a kitchen," she muttered, moving the pans off the heat.

"Says the one who messed up the egg wash," he muttered back.

Annabeth gasped melodramatically. He couldn't help it, a laugh escaped him. His shoulders shook silently. They noticed at the same time that he was still holding the salt shaker, precariously angled over the pot and still dripping a thin stream of crystalline pieces.

He didn't believe his ears when Annabeth muttered something in ancient Greek, which he'd picked up from Beckendorf and Clarisse. "I'll add more water. Move away!"

-line break-

They were both still swallowing giggles when they served the food to everyone that had arrived. Annabeth smiled sunnily at everyone and asked them how they liked their coffee, if there was anything they wanted to eat in particular, and the whole shebang. Percy just plopped the broccolini down on top of the pork chops and swallowed his snorts every time someone gratefully accepted a bowl of soup.

Annabeth managed to salvage it, though she'd never researched what to do with this kind of disaster. It tasted watery, and a little artificially sweet, and half-pureed canned tomatoes (the blender stopped working when the last strains of electricity ran out) stood out bizarrely in the middle of the soup. But the stale bread they turned into crotons and some fresh basil from the little garden Miranda set up in the alley made it look presentable.

Most of Annabeth's perceived rewards did not work out. Cooking was only somewhat therapeutic, back when he could lazily stare at the rolls rising in the oven, and the heinous hairnets were just making his scalp itchy. He tried to avoid the eyes of the people that were taking the trays. He'd always thought generosity was for the rich, or someone with something, at least. He was playing cafeteria lady with Annabeth's help (it was pretty obvious she made a donation, with how well she knew the pantry), and he didn't even feel an ounce of generosity. It just made him feel like a fraud.

A memory pushed into his mind. Ambling into a soup kitchen himself, his limbs unsteady and his veins throbbing with a fresh injection. He almost couldn't recognize himself in the smudgy windows with how dark his eyes bags were. The only thing that was served was trash soup—a mismatch of all the spoiling vegetables the supermarket threw out, and his baggy sleeves slipped down his arm as he reached for a bowl. He'd rather hold the murky-looking bowl off-kilter than expose the thin scars circling his blood vessels, but everyone in the line glared as he dripped a few drops on the ground. He felt alone, a complete stranger to the land of adult poverty. But he got used to it quick enough.

"Percy." Annabeth's voice was low. He realized she'd been calling his names a few times already. He let his vision refocus. Annabeth was rushing to pile things on the plates and pour the soup at the same time. He grabbed the next plate and clenched a chop between the tongs.

"Sorry. Got distracted," he murmured.

"Something interesting?" Annabeth said through her friendly smile.

"No. Just a memory."

They let the silence phase out between them as he tried to fix the slack in the line.

"I've never experienced being rich." Most people had settled down already with their food. "I've always been the underdog of Chris, who was the underdog of the dealer I've never met. There was this crazy short period of my life. I got all my friends off the street, into a nice penthouse apartment someone gifted me. I mean, it was still in my territory, but it had a sunken bathtub and everything. Nico loved to lay out his Myth-o-magic cards on the glass coffee table."

He started arranging the pork chops in the tub. "I had a talent for dealing. Guess I saw it too often. And then someone chose to share a needle with me. That's a serious money-sucker."

He looked over and saw Annabeth bursting to speak. He tried to play it off with a grin. "Yeah, I've spent enough time in hospital waiting rooms reading pamphlets. I know that could've given me HIV. I don't recall sharing after that, and I'm assuming they would've told me at my drug tests."

"Why do you think this memory in specific came back?"

"Soup kitchens are supposed to be for the homeless." He kept his voice low. His gang-fighting days were far away from him. "I'm remembering when I was, and when I was the opposite."

"Yeah, but I have a theory. Maybe a part of you misses the days when you weren't addicted. They almost sound like a golden age to me. And you want to go back, but they seem too far gone, so it's nostalgic."

"I wouldn't know." Everything left in the shadows, that he normally tried to keep blocked, was jumping out at him. His body probably hoped an emotional low would bring about a high. Or maybe he was grasping for something comforting, to hold close and keep him sane, and nothing was coming. "It doesn't make me sad. That comes and goes without cause."

"Do you want me to fix you a plate?"

"No, it's fine." Maybe, in another world, he would've accepted and poked the food around to satisfy her. But Percy couldn't scrap the leftovers into the trash. Not when he knew someone like Harvey.

Annabeth grabbed her own roll and was chewing on it. "You sure? If you're hungry enough, something will stay down."

"I'm good."

"Come on. Any random cravings?"

He thought about it for a moment. There was something he always wanted to eat, but he knew Annabeth's wouldn't taste like his mom's. "Montauk Boardwalk Pizza." They used to order in when they rented a cabin on the beach. The store would have an age-old recipe, at least.

Annabeth grinned. "I'll see about getting them to deliver." They pushed out second and third helpings, and deposing their hairnets and aprons in the back kitchen, headed back onto the subway.

"I gave them Half-Blood Hill's address. We can eat, chill for a bit, and then go for a run."

"What's chilling going to look like?"

"Well, there's a great library on the third floor—"

Percy squinted at her. "No."

"What about the _Odyssey_?"

"I read it when I'm bored."

"Fine. You want to grab a nap?"

"I'm good." He was drained. But he couldn't sleep, and staring at the ceiling did not sound fun.

Annabeth turned to him. "I had to memorize a textbook on substance abuse to get a degree. I know how tired you must be. I can prescribe you some meds."

Percy swallowed. Her eyes flickered across his features. "Is something up with the antidepressants?"

He looked away. It was too obvious.

"Percy." Her eyes smoldered slightly. "There is no shame in taking them. And I hope there's no shame in getting therapy."

He wondered if the German tourists across the train were actually taking an interest in their conversation, or staring into space.

"There's no cure," he whispered. "It doesn't work."

"How do you know, if you haven't been taking it regularly?"

"It doesn't feel right." He was almost talking to himself. "Be strong. Toughen up."

Reyna always told him to be strong when he saw something terrible. Or when they'd lost everyone. Gabe often taunted him with "toughen up" as he threw beer cans in his general direction.

"Percy, medicine won't make you weak. Asking for help won't make you weak. It makes you strong enough to be brave."

"It's easy to forget. I don't want to block out my feelings, I want to keep them so I can treasure what I had. And remember what I did wrong."

"I don't doubt you will stop either of them. The best way to remember someone is not to feel depressed."

He leaned back in his seat. "I'll try."

"If you're just forgetting, you should put the bottle next to your toothbrush."

"No. Someone will definitely swallow all of it in one gulp of beer."

"Then tuck it in your pocket." She paused. "I have a bottle in my bag."

"Seriously?" He saw his opportunity to level the mood again. "You carry one around?"

"You never know when someone will need some."

He smirked. "Let me guess, you also have a Swiss Army knife?"

Annabeth frowned. "You never know when you need the tiny scissors."

"You know there's a thing called unnecessarily prepared?" After a moment, he admitted, "When I was small, I carried around snacks to feed stray dogs."

Annabeth gave him a small, warm grin. "Why did you stop?"

"Can't afford them."

She shrugged. "That's still really nice."

"My pockets were like dog-magnets."

She snorted. "Oh, believe me, I can never carry the groceries home without getting bombarded."

The subway slowed at the station. Annabeth checked her watch. "I think lunch is coming soon. The traffic's isn't so bad yet. The pizza delivery guy said he didn't mind taking the trip."

"Thanks for ordering. I'll pay."

They exchanged glances. Percy had finally started carrying some cash around, like a normal person. But not in a wallet. He didn't want to get jumped.

"Next time's on me. Thanks."

They had to wait a bit, and Annabeth introduced Percy to home decorating shows, but the soggy cardboard boxes came, and there were the cardboard-crusted, greasy slices in all their glory. Annabeth clearly didn't get it after her first bite, and fetched two salads for them. But Percy tasted time with his mom.

-line break-

Percy didn't mind Central Park. It was touristy, but it was also a nice place to spend if he didn't have anything else to do. Which wasn't often, but he liked to imagine himself cozying up on a bench and watching the fountain or a spontaneous performance.

Annabeth picked a new gate to enter. The memory of slipping on her sunglasses and crying on an overhanging rock still came up, but it felt like a million years ago. He appreciated the gesture.

And then Annabeth led him to the paved paths that all the runners used.

He'd never been much of a runner. He usually puffed behind everyone if they were getting chased by the police, for gang fights or vandalism or dealing. He had some strange talent with swimming. But that didn't seem to use up his energy.

Rounding the corner, he was hunched over and feeling like his lungs were getting sawed in half by the air. He never noticed how much physical discomfort a person could have. All his muscles were sore.

It was probably in another one of those hospital waiting room pamphlets. Withdrawal from all opium-based drugs will bring back all the pain you've been ignoring. He usually only noticed his emotional pain going away, but it also probably helped him get through eating minimal junk food and heavy lifting as he was uncontrollably losing weight.

A sharp ache jabbed into his stomach, something that was normal from running. He hunched over, breathless.

Annabeth peered over at him worriedly, but he forced himself back into a slow jog.

"You need to build up your endurance," she told him.

He nodded, not even bothering to fake a smile. The running wasn't too painful. He climbed a ton of stairs daily. But feeling these different muscles move and hurt was surprisingly sharp.

They passed empty benches, some occupied by couples or the elderly reading newspapers, a few dancers in the middle of a square, and a few hot dog carts. Annabeth kept her breaths even and explained to him the history of different structures and statues and random facts about the nature around them. It was a little droning, but her voice was comforting to hear.

Eventually she was snapping her fingers in front of his face. He blinked to life. "What?"

"I said, you've been detoxing for a little more than a week. That's really great. Soon enough, the longer you've chosen to be sober, the more you want to keep it that way."

He'd only decided four days ago. It wasn't impressive. He doubted even ten years would be something he'd like to brag about and stop himself with. "Maybe. Do you think the detoxing is making me healthier?"

"Yeah, except you refuse to eat or sleep."

"I ate half of the large pizza and that salad!"

"Come on, you picked off a few shreds of cheddar from the salad. Lou Ellen said the rest tasted delicious."

He gave her a bashful grin. "You know, I'd rather be sleeping than doing this."

"You've missed your chance. Catch an early night, then."

He bit his lip. "At night, I chat with this boy Harvey. I'm picking out the more interesting sections of the _Odyssey _to read to him."

"That's great, but no excuse to compromise yourself. Is he an early bird?"

"I think so." It was pretty hard to sleep over the waking up of his roommates.

"Maybe find him then. Or do you have plans this afternoon?"

"Only if there's somewhere else you want to drag me to."

Annabeth huffed in indignance but kept her good-natured grin. "I think I'm good."

He nodded and looked ahead of them. There was another turn, into an avenue shaded with leafless branches. Suddenly an idea popped into his head. He didn't need to reassess Annabeth; he knew his legs were longer. He waited until she looked distracted enough, and blazed ahead.

"Cheater!" she shrieked as she chased him.

-line break-

They showered back at the company. Percy wondered if they had a storage of food there. It could serve as a nice bunker, and there was a possibility of sleeping in the cubicles if the bedrooms were full.

Annabeth handed him a box of eclairs from Calypso and walked him out of the building. He wondered if she was about to hug him, and then wondered what her slightly damp hair would feel like, brushing against his shoulder. But she grinned lightly and stepped back. Percy quickly left before he could take up more of her time.

Back at his apartment, he shared the eclairs with Harvey, letting him grab most of them, and Grover texted that he was coming over with a laptop. Percy set out a new pile of origami papers for himself and was about to take one that looked like blue and white tie-dye when Chris was sidling over to his corner. He glanced at Percy's crane in surprise, and lifted his chin for permission.

Percy felt a cold feeling in his throat. He could guess what this was about. Chris crept over to him and sat against the wall.

"Another dealer's inviting some people over. Just a basic dinner, we set out some special stuff. Perfectly clean-looking. He gets a small piece of the profits. You want to go set up?"

He glanced over at Chris. He'd loitered on sidewalks for entire nights with him. They both drank celebratory beers together when they'd set up a steady customer base. Percy had kind of lost his when he chose getting high over meeting up with them, but as far as he knew, Chris had an ongoing group. He thought living in a small apartment was a good cover and kept the dealings over at his old place. Of course, maybe he wanted to keep a watch on Percy too.

He glanced at him sideways for a long moment. Chris cleared his throat. "The guests can guess that he's a dealer already. We're not duping them."

_Yeah, but we're chaining them into an addiction that will probably mess up their lives. _

Percy didn't want to see Chris squirm. He was a nice guy. He just stumbled into something wrong, and it was easy to trade morality for a living. "Nah," he murmured. "I'm good."

Chris looked like a weight settled over him, and realization clicked in his eyes. "Okay. Okay."

Percy held up his crane again. He folded both sides in. "How's Clarisse?"

Chris blinked. "She's doing good. Um, she's job-hunting."

So the adult posse wasn't serious. "Oh. What's that like?"

"Well, she's a shoo-in as a karate trainer. There's also a business firm that wants to take in a training coach, but I'm not so sure about that."

Percy laughed. He didn't know why he was so forgiving lately, or maybe because he just didn't let himself realize this. Sure, he was still scared of her, and being pushed around as a kid would always leave an imprint, but she just tried to act tough. She also had a crappy dad.

"Yeah. Well, have a good day."

Percy nodded politely. He heard Chris disappear back to his area. He didn't leave the place that night.

Percy breathed in the familiar motley crew of staleness, mildew, and cigarette smoke. It was almost home, and he was glad to have people here he could call friends.

He paused and set down his new tie-dye crane. He booted up his phone, and went to his messages for Annabeth.

"Tell Hazel I'd like to come," he typed. He knew Annabeth would know what.

She typed lightning-fast. "Of course. And I'd love to spend the holidays with you."

He allowed a slow, small smile to creep up. "Me too."

**Okay, that took a lot longer than I expected.**

**Review replies:**

**Guest: No, thank you! That was really encouraging, thanks for taking your time to do that. **

**Au revoir,**

**Pride-and-loyalty**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi! I've kind of been looking forward to this chapter, so yeah, quick update! For those of you getting tired of fillers and happy days (which is terrible, by the way, you should know that****), here comes the storm. **

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: A lot of people consider coffee a good hangover cure, because it wakes people up and creates more alertness. However, it does not actually work like that. Coffee is a stimulant and alcohol is a depressant, and though serving opposition functions, do not cancel each other out. They simply make you more alert in your half-drunken state. _

An icy breeze skittered across the park, lifting dead leaves and scattering discarded trash around. Percy shivered against the metal bench.

Harvey was quiet beside him, cramming huge bites of hot dog inside his mouth and chewing softly, instinctively hiding his presence as he ate.

Percy forced down another mustard-y bite. Unless he was going on runs with Annabeth, he still didn't feel hungry. But this 3 foot by 5 foot "green space" a couple of blocks from their neighborhood did not have space to stretch his legs. At least Harvey didn't mind the carpet of cigarette butts and ignominious stains against the iron seat.

"This is really good," Harvey whispered to him gratefully.

Percy shrugged. He dug up a reputable enough hot dog cart on some frugal foodie blog, and made sure to get all the condiments piled on top of Harvey's. He wasn't just trying to be generous. He wanted to spend all his money.

Out of the thousand things keeping him awake, his stash was the one burning a hole in his mind. This morning, he'd rubbed his bleary eyes and lifted out the brick. And he pulled out every last bill, leaving a contingency fifty dollars. Not enough for a dose that would give him a high.

He decided to start with the apartment. Everyone scraped together their pennies for the monthly rent, but pretty much Chris and the guy who took night shifts at Starbucks attempted to cover water and electricity. There was no room for a heater, and the gas stove sometimes worked on cloudy days, so that was it. They usually got showers in the first week of the month and then the taps started sputtering. They could not turn lights on in more than one room at a time, unless it was just to get illumination for three minutes in another one. It was a terrible place Percy didn't care about. But they had to live there.

He came back from work with a fancy scented soap, with even little petals of lavender pressed inside. It was the priciest one he could find, and he was pretty sure he was going to endure a lot of teasing for smelling like it, but it was better than the tiny little sliver they kept in a moldy plastic ashtray.

Everyone was at work, except for Duke, day drinking about his unemployment. Percy winked at Harvey and slipped inside the shower. He had to wait a bit, since he only paid the landlord this morning, but then clean, warm water was splattering across the plastic curtain and slimy floor tiles. Percy laughed and turned circles underneath the flow until the ghost of Grover hissed inside his ear that he was wasting too much water. Percy quickly toweled himself off, stuffed himself in his sweater before he would freeze to death and gave Harvey a grand gesture to the bathroom.

Duke, half-unconscious, wrinkled his nose when they passed by him.

They also had secret plans for Harvey to whip up a concoction that would put everyone to sleep and, after relocating Greg onto the carpet, they would watch cable together. If Chris was still there, and wouldn't bother them for watching a lame soap opera, they decided he could get a spot on the couch.

Unfortunately, Percy couldn't afford more than a week's deposit, so they wouldn't be able to get used to it. He decided to leave a few dollars to get Harvey a warm, fleecy coat and these hot dogs.

Harvey was picking a piece of onion from his chin. "Mm," he said and licked his fingers.

Percy smirked. He couldn't keep giving his leftovers to Harvey, who probably shouldn't have two in a row anyway, or it would be obvious something was up with his appetite. Percy forced the last few bites down with a swig of blue Coke. That made things better.

"Sorry, kid, that's pretty much bled me dry. Anything free you want to do?"

Harvey drummed his lithe fingers on his knee. "Um, do you know any scrapyards?" When Percy blinked at him, he explained that he was trying to build something to reach the top shelves and he wanted a few bolts. He was the one that fixed the rickety kitchen table, and also the windowpane once that cold wind escaped through every night.

Something about him reminded Percy of Leo. "I'm not sure if those are open to anyone…. would a car shop work?"

Harvey brightened slightly, but paused before speaking. "I don't think they would give away scraps. Besides, we should arrive with a car."

Percy was also feeling a little doubtful. How would they react when he showed up without Annabeth? Leo and Calypso still weren't personally his friends.

"No, I know the people that work at one of them. They have a lot of old cars there."

Harvey's eyes positively sparkled. "Can we go now?"

He nodded, and leapt up after him. Percy decided to call ahead, just in case, and also to find out their address. Leo sounded quite eager to meet Harvey. His nerves sang with relief.

Harvey was wide-eyed the entire subway ride. He hadn't been on it too many times before, and clutched his temporary ticket with the utmost delicateness. Calypso was already waiting for them in the herb garden, but Harvey was too busy staring at the packed parking lot.

She smiled at Harvey a little wistfully, but with none of the condescendence most adults carried around kids. "Percy! Thanks for dropping by!" It was like she hugged him with her warm gaze.

He shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's no big deal. We were bored, and Grover's visiting a fair in New Jersey with Juniper." But he loved this place. "I'm glad to be here."

"Well, now that you've called earlier, unlike Annabeth, I've gotten to prepare something for you. I'm using my last fall apples to make apple cider, and also I'm attempting this savory bread. Sound okay?"

The smell of her kitchen was already making him hungry. Harvey reluctantly pulled him inside, and Calypso handed them heavy mugs of cider. Harvey cocked his head at the back door. "What's in there?" he asked, almost reverently.

He quickly downed his cider when they told him and, cramming the herb-y bread into his mouth, rushed inside. He and Leo looked at each other for a moment.

"You look familiar, kid," Leo said, trying to hide his shock.

"I'm Harvey Mason."

Leo arched a pointy, elfish eyebrow. "Are you related to Jake Mason?"

Percy stopped mid-sip. How did Leo know him?

"Yes. I'm his brother," Harvey said slowly.

"He's related to me, little dude!" Suddenly Leo was running over and hugging him. "I have an actual bro!"

The resemblance was similar. The chocolate curls, the mischievous grins, and though Percy did not see this with Jake Mason, Leo barely towered over Harvey.

When Harvey was pressed against Leo's tool belt, his eyes grew wider than plates. He immediately began poking inside, and Leo started explaining what he'd been using all the tools for. Percy glanced at Calypso, who shrugged with a grin.

Harvey clearly wanted to spend the night there, but he didn't want to suddenly dump a kid in Calypso's hands and, honestly, he was a little jealous of how well they got along, so he boarded the subway again with the little boy.

Harvey had a whole bag of scraps, and he couldn't stop chattering about all the engines Leo had shown him. Or something along those lines. The crash course Leo had given Percy and Grover on oil leaks had long faded from his mind.

As they power-walked down the darkening streets, Harvey reverted to discussing the sleep potion he would make with the alcohol cabinet. Percy was rather looking forward to the night as he slipped his key into the complicated locks, and he stepped inside to see Clarisse in the living room.

-line break-

For some reason, he always imagined her as a villain. Sprawled on the couch, legs thrown apart with her deadly combat boots lightly touching the ground, playing with a knife. Or something.

Instead she was standing in the space between the couch and the armchair, like she was just about to leave. Her back was to them, and when the door finally creaked open, she turned halfway excruciatingly slowly. Percy sort of expected her to grin wickedly, but her stoic expression just shifted.

"Jackson." She always looked tough as a kid. Not much had changed. "I can't believe you're not high."

Percy felt his face twist into a scowl that he tried to suppress. Sure, he could talk about her easily, but she and her spear were still one of his greatest childhood fears. And his childlike instincts still dominated a lot of his life. He was part afraid of showing emotion she would pick on and half determined to look like he grew up.

But Clarisse had already moved on from him. Chris had entered the room, shouldering on a new bag. Not the inconspicuous backpack Percy had come to know. He also realized for the first time that Chris was not in his usual white undershirt. He was wearing a formal black coat, the kind that appeared in magazines with the wide lapels and broad collars. Clarisse wore black more often than him, but she wasn't in her usual muscle shirt and military cargos. Today she wore a tunic and jeans she'd ripped herself from fights.

Percy felt fear prickle at the back of his throat, and his heartbeat throb in the wrong patter again.

Chris looked at him with his sad dog eyes. Percy hoped he was imagining that they were more pitiful than normal. Clarisse cleared her throat. "The punk just showed up."

"Percy." Chris pressed his lips together. "We're going to a funeral. Everyone's showing up. Will you come with us?"

"Who?" He didn't want to let himself think. Not all his friends he'd made in the streets were dead.

Clarisse answered sharply. "Michael Yew. That little dipsh*t with a stick up his a**. Nobody cares about him."

Percy tried not to sag in relief. His best guess was that Clarisse forced everyone to come. Her gang had eventually scattered, but she made sure they knew they still had to be loyal to it. She couldn't exactly mastermind some vast crime organization. It was probably to protect against snitching or something.

"It was an overdose on cocaine," Chris said quietly. He met Percy's eyes.

No one was coming out of obligation, he realized. They showed up to each other funerals because it was the last decent thing, they could do to someone with a life just as f**ked up as theirs. _Once in a gang, always in a gang._

"Get on something black," Clarisse commanded. Percy felt annoyed at himself for snapping to attention and being so obedient, but he rushed to his corner and sifted out his black pants and a darkish shirt. It was a little cold to just be wearing that, so he would probably have to leave his navy jacket unzipped to show he made an effort.

His devil-may-care attitude sprang back into place. Who cared that he didn't have a black sweater? He wasn't going to pay Michael any respect or anything.

Percy nodded a goodbye to Harvey and left with Clarisse. She didn't ride the subway. She had a Stingray and always, always kept her windows rolled down. Percy wanted to cringe at being in this car, blasting terrible rap music, for all the world to see, but he just silently hunched down in the back.

He wondered how many times Clarisse would get pulled over if she wasn't white.

It wasn't a long drive. No one was paying for a wake and then a reception and then a burial with a thousand-a-dollar-an-hour preacher. The rich had their own cemetery, and it was not close to Percy's neighborhood.

They gathered together in a dingy building that seemed to be a run-down office. Everyone sat on spinning chairs. The casket was fake wood, and there was no bouquet of roses. No one bothered to pretend to care enough to leave the lid open. People passed by it and did not look inside.

Percy could not sit still in his chair. He sucked in his breath and scratched himself. No one here was a stranger to funerals. But he was the only one about to lose it.

Will Solace, his brother, gave the speech. His voice was soft, practiced. Percy reminded himself that Lee Fletcher, also his brother, had passed a few years ago. Michael had given the eulogy then, except there was more to say. Will left it on a high note. He aimed a bright smile at everyone and sat down.

An uncontrollable yawn escaped Percy, and he tried to stuff it in his coat. Exhaustion was one of the better aspects of withdrawal. But if he had to stay for the whole time, something worse would come up. Though it would probably come directly from him.

Someone thanked someone else for carving the tombstone. Clarisse and her siblings went to carry the casket and the elegant slab of stone. They all trooped outside.

It was a dusty, unkempt graveyard. Weeds grew from the ground. Percy had been at three more burials here. He could find their tombstones with his eyes closed. In the movies, it always rained, and black umbrellas would open up. That wasn't depressing. The suffocating, screaming, never-ending silence that clogged the air was.

Percy thought spitefully that Michael Yew didn't deserve the same silence and should've gotten the cheesy gray, rainy morning. But he told that voice to shut up.

Jake Mason hacked at the hard, almost-frozen ground, and Clarisse directed the rest of the carrying crew over to the deep hole that had appeared within minutes. They lightly dropped it inside.

One of Michael's sisters let out a breath at the thud. The dirt was shoveled back over. His siblings all worked together to stick in the tombstone.

Connor was first to notice the blood on Percy's arm. He scratched himself too hard.

-line break-

In the end, it wasn't the rest of his friends in the cemetery that sent him off the edge. It was his mother's passing. He was a mama's boy.

A bunch of distant relatives Percy never met showed up at her funeral, and also the social worker. His dad wasn't there. His mom got buried next to her parents, who passed in a plane crash. It was fancy because the social worker felt bad. Otherwise, "domestic disputes" were all too common. There were sugar cookies at the wake, and he kept getting handed apple juice.

The social worker kept a tight leash on him and didn't let him join the line heading to the lacquered coffin and shaking hands with his third cousins twice removed or whatever. He didn't remember the speech or anything anyone said. He remembered the pitying looks. Those were the first ones in his life, and they wouldn't stop coming.

After everyone dawdled between leaving the church for the graveyard, he snuck away from the social worker, the sugar cookie he'd eaten to satisfy her churning in his stomach, and took a peek at his mom.

Everyone was so wrong. Her head wound was stitched up at the hospital, but those weren't supposed to show on a corpse. A patch of fake creamy-white skin was plastered on her forehead. She was unearthly pale all over.

When he was older, he wondered if all the blood had drained from her, or if they just applied too much makeup.

She was wearing bright pink lipstick, and her eyebrows were re-drawn. Every strand of her flyaway, just slightly graying brown hair was coiffed and gelled and secured with a fake ruby barrette.

_My mother's favorite color is blue_, he remembered thinking.

She was in some yellow gingham dress and uncomfortable-looking leather shoes. Her ankle socks had a frilly lace trim. She looked like an oversized schoolgirl.

Another of his more mature realizations was that funeral manager wanted her to look innocent. Not like a widow, and then the wife of an abusive drunk.

It was not disconcerting to see the shiny coffin, with a bright spray of soft pink flowers on top, lowered into the hole. Not like his social worker expected and whispered "this might heighten his psychological trauma" to his great-great aunt or some other person. He didn't really believe that was his mother, getting closed off from the light of day. Sometimes, even now, he still hoped it wasn't her.

Her tombstone was etched with, "Sally Jackson. Beloved wife and mother." It didn't specify the wife of whom.

A lot of people found this counterintuitive, but sadness wasn't the same as depression. Depression was a heavy blanket, choking the life and energy and feeling out of you. Sadness was a raging thunderstorm coupled with a hurricane, a thousand waves suddenly breaking across your body.

He was too sad to cry. And he was still scared of crying. It was like Gabe was just sitting right around the corner, popping open another beer can, straightening if he heard Percy make a sound. No matter how safe he was now, how many times he'd cried now, his throat was locking again and his eyes burned. Percy just breathed unevenly, gasping for air.

It didn't take long to figure out he wasn't reacting over Michael. Chris led him home, and Percy distantly heard a terse conversation between him and Harvey, and a phone dialing someone. Annabeth's voice heightened in shock and repeated a few numbers, a street, or something else in the background. A piercing jab of alcohol touched his arm, and then a few taunt Band-Aids. He distantly wished for something else to inject into him. Back in the Stingray, no more music, heavy footsteps out the door, and he was setting against a familiar comfy gray pillow. No one touched him once.

He was a mama's boy.

-line break-

Annabeth's face came into a hazy focus. She was sagging slightly, her breaths coming out like sighs. She watched him carefully, her eyes no longer pinned on him, like she was holding out to see if he would continue to meet hers.

The silence was still there. Wind danced around her small glass owls, and her coffee machine was softly grounding beans, and her minifridge whirred. But her usual bustle, garnishing a cup for him, laughing, had disappeared.

He wanted it to come back.

"Do you want to talk?" she murmured. Her gaze soft and questioning.

He slowly stood up and picked up his mug. The same blue one she used for him. Distantly, he wondered if someone else used these cups. "Can you brew something for me?"

Annabeth nodded. She took it from him, so careful not to brush his fingers, and started pulling out jars of sugar and cream. The little bottle of her blue dye. She pulled the coffeepot out and doused the stream of coffee with warm cream. With a few small flicks, she stirred in the dye, and found another jar of chocolate shavings that she sprinkled into a "u."

"Sea salt," she told him, leaving the saltshaker with him.

Like she told him, it did hide the bitterness of the coffee, and he simply liked the taste of it. He had a personal barista now. He didn't really bother with how much sugar or anything, but her ratio was perfect. He slowly sipped at it.

Annabeth pulled out another stack of origami paper from her desk. No one had grabbed his bag when he was at home, but he didn't reach out for one. She started folding something.

Percy wasn't sure how to ask for not-silence. He tried to come up with something. "Do you have any dinner plans?"

Annabeth's lips slowly lifted in a wry smile. "No, Percy. I would like to join you."

He swallowed. He didn't have anything planned after this. "I don't know what to say."

"Then why are you here? Chris didn't tell me anything."

"But you have a good guess." Percy cocked her head and she didn't deny it. "I went to someone's funeral today. Not a friend, but, yeah. That was after I took Harvey to Leo's shop. Turns out they're related."

"What's in common with those?"

He blinked at her. "Nothing. Maybe other people that have nothing to do with me?"

She leaned in. "What about the fact that other people have family around them?"

Percy leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, probably." It was so obvious, wasn't it?

Annabeth set aside a miniature Eiffel Tower. "I'm sorry. There's nothing to say that can make this better."

"Have you lost anyone?" he asked softly.

Annabeth looked up, her eyes like quicksilver. "My brother. Not by blood or name, but he was my brother."

Percy nodded. He wasn't going to apologize or say something nice, and he was at the very least glad Annabeth wouldn't expect him to. Guilt swirled with the aching in him. He felt like this moment was long deserved, and he shouldn't have been putting it off. Just waiting and dreading and hoping for the triggering days and moments to start. His mother deserved to be mourned by the entire world, every single second. He was the only one who remembered her, and that was from time to time.

Annabeth waited a few moments. "Would you-do you want to tell me some memories of her?"

"Like this is the log cabin?" His voice was flat, but already his mind was pulling up memories.

Her lips flew up in a full smile. "Yes, like that."

"She worked at a candy store. She really was the best mom ever." He glanced up, and Annabeth smiled when she realized that was a joke. "Every day, she'd bring me the leftovers, the lopsided pieces, or the new blue gummy sharks that she paid with change. She always brought them home in a paper bag I'd painted blue in kindergarten. All the candy was blue."

"Of course," Annabeth murmured.

"Obviously, the free dentist down the street noticed some cavities, told me to quit for a bit. So she started bringing home blueberries, sprinkling them in my bland oatmeal and pancakes. We tried fruit salads but they were too healthy. She liked being in the kitchen, but she liked it better when I was there, making a mess and bothering her and eating all the food." He swallowed. "She had an amazing seven-layer dip that my stepfather loved. She would literally conjure blue tortilla chips out of nowhere with blue dye for me. He thought we were absurd.

"She hugged me a lot starting third grade. When I was scared of getting touched." Percy instinctively paused and lowered his voice before saying scared. _Never admit you're scared_, Reyna had hissed at him when he laid half-conscious on the ground from a beating. Percy shuddered a little at the memory, because he missed Reyna so much, and it was a terrible memory, and he wasn't even listening to Reyna anymore. She wasn't wrong. It was better to act strong. But around people he was trying to trust, he needed to open up and pour out all the darkness inside, or he would lose the strength to be strong anymore. "She liked to hug me from behind. I always tensed, tried to get away, biting down a scream, but she wouldn't let me go. She would hold me tightly and bury her face in my shoulder."

Annabeth's expression was wavering, but she held his gaze tightly.

"I don't have a lot of memories. I remember hiding my bruises, because I knew she wanted Gabe around for some reason. I remember her teasing me for being so clumsy at the nurse's office when I put on an elaborate show of tearing up because Gabe didn't realize he pushed me and I told the nurse I tripped on a curb. I remember sharing ice cream with her, these big sundaes with two scoops of blueberry and one of chocolate. She changed shampoos if there was something cheaper, 'thriftier,' she called it, but there was this really nice one that smelled like jasmine. I remember her holding a coat over my head if it was raining, and her wet, frizzing hair brushing my arm when she bent down to kiss me on the cheek. I pushed her away."

He clenched his jaw and glared at the impeccable surface of the table. He wasn't so scared of crying anymore.

Everything was whelming up. Regrets, guilt, blame, he knew it wasn't going to change anything. He knew there was a better way to keep her memory. But he'd been living with them so long, he didn't where the line for severing started and ended. Taking them away would be taking him away.

Annabeth nodded, and he accepted the signal to move on.

"And, every time I went on vacation, she would take a week off work, and we would head to Montauk, and rent a cabin and watch scary movies and eat pizza. Yeah," he said at her grin. "Montauk Boardwalk's Pizza."

"Do you want to go back sometime?"

"Yeah. I think about it a lot." He paused, and wondered if they were both thinking about the time he went off grid and got drunk. "She didn't wear shoes. She loved feeling the beach against her skin. She tried to wipe most of it off on the carpet, but it still got our bed damp. And we left a couple of grease stains. We have our very favorite cabin, that no one rents because it was twenty minutes away from the beach and it's falling apart, but it was ours." He tried to talk faster and faster, not slowly down between his breaths, not waiting for the pain to catch up. "There were my initials scratched into the stairs handrail, the puke stain on the bathroom tiles when I ate too many hot dogs, the little sand plants she uprooted and raised inside an egg carton by the windows. I don't know if other people—" He cut himself off. "The movies were always old and cheesy, but they freaked me out. My mom never got bothered by these things and would stay up with me, lying awake by my side the whole time. I would keep poking her, asking if she was awake, and she would sleepily answer, 'I'm here.' I think at some point she was just too tired to get mad at me. The curtains were thin and often the moonlight would be blinding. I felt like I had stayed up the whole night, but in the mornings she said I would start snoring at ten. I don't know if she said that to make me feel better."

"You were in elementary, and you spent the day romping around the beach and wolfing down hot dogs. That sounds rather early to me," Annabeth said quietly.

He looked away. "Her hair didn't dry in perfect beachy waves, it was tangled and caked in salt and rough and ten times curlier than normal, but she liked to secure it in a bun with a piece of driftwood. She told me that we would've been good beach hobos, except neither of us dared to touch the ocean in winter and would lose our main source of food. I figured that out in middle school," he swallowed bitterness in his mouth, "when I was alone."

"Anything else?" she murmured, anchoring him back to cold, empty reality.

Percy stared at his mug. "She didn't actually like coffee. She liked the smell, but she worked at a candy store because of how much she knew about sugar. It just reminds me of home sometimes, because whenever I went to Grover's home for a project or sleepover, his parents always had a pot brewing. With a reusable coffee filter, and organic beans, of course. The Underwoods were too chill to be parents, but it was kind of a refugee. My mom sometimes put on a pot for Gabe to help with his hangovers, so I guess those two memories combined. She always got cheered up when the beans were getting ground."

"Oh. Well, she started taking me out for ice cream floats a while after she got married to Gabe. We would discuss my life, and she would try to make me see that she was well. We would bring the floats out the shop, sit on the outdoor patio chairs and watch people pass by. A lot of times, we were quiet. It was a peaceful, dull silence to me, and I would stir the scoop of ice cream to get more bubbles and she would smile beautifully at me, because nothing ever changed her smiles, and she would chug it down right before we needed to head home and the ice cream was all melted. I really thought she was fine. She was hit by Gabe for so long, and I never could tell. I think she saw enough lying to do it herself well." Percy clenched his fists and caught sight of his mug again. He forced himself to take a shaky breath. "When she was preoccupied after getting laid off from the candy store, he turned to me. It was only a few hits, not enough for her to pay close attention to. She didn't think he would ever stoop that low."

Annabeth lowered her face, trying to get him to meet her eyes. Streaks of blue were starting to show up in the sharp afternoon sunlight, like a messy watercolor. They were soft, sad, and he knew he had to stop heading down this road. He imagined all these abandoned memories scattered across a field like land mines, a field that would be forever signed to his name and he wouldn't dare abandon, no matter how dangerous. A field he would keep travelling, getting close to the mines, because maybe the analogy worked for Annabeth but he wouldn't ever completely abandon a memory of his mother.

"I played Little League once. I sucked. The only thing I was any good at was swimming, and I had to wait until middle school for that, except I could never stay longer than a season. So I was at my first game. The school bus took us to another school, and we were wearing matching jerseys and were so hyped. Parents were not permitted room on the bus, so there were some Hondas and minivans trailing us. My mom said she would hightail it to the school as soon as work was over, so I kept an eye on the bleachers the whole time after the intercession." He breathed out. "She didn't show up. She was a miracle parent, taking me to the beach, buying me junk food, raising me alone, but she didn't make it. The traffic was terrible, so she showed up when the other team was high-fiving and bragging about their trophy. I wasn't disappointed or ashamed. She suddenly made everything better. I don't know why that's so vivid. I guess maybe I wanted her to say she was proud of me at a swim meet. I have no idea." He slowly raised his eyes. "Do you have a theory?"

"I could try." She stared into the distance for a moment before focusing on him. "I think the fact that she was imperfect shocks you. That she could make mistakes, and made the wrong choice to not leave work early. And you're wondering if she ignored your injuries on purpose, and her imperfect version would continue to dislike you. I think this also made you realize that she would understand your mistakes, and would not have been able to look down at you because she was also a flawed human being, and you still blame yourself, and you want to keeping doing so."

Percy placed his cheek on the slightly warm table and hugged his pillow tightly. He silently wished for everything to go away.

"I'm sorry, I know you don't want to talk about any of this. I'm not going to ask you to. But you need to think about how much you agreed with what I said. Did she hate you? Did anything ever make her less than she was? Would she ever stand for you hating yourself?"

He looked up. "My mother carried old, sick cats home in her coat and helped them sleep somewhere warm and fed. She gave poor kids free candy. She married an a**hole that beat her so I could have some sense of normalcy or protection or whatever selfless reason she came up with! Her death was not just an accident. It could not be one." He wasn't mad at Annabeth. He was mad at himself for believing in something so stupid for so long, but also pissed in general that he was going to run out of things to blame. It was Gabe's fault, sure, but Percy found it exhausting to stay mad at him. And what was similar with all the deaths around him? The fault that he didn't directly cause it, but he was right there and everything led up to it because of him. He waited eons in that seat, struggling to put words together and force them from his mouth.

"I don't want her death to be the end. That there is nothing left to it, nothing left of her." He breathed out again. "But there isn't anything left."

Annabeth was synchronizing her breathing with him. "No, there isn't," she said quietly. "They've left us behind."

"Are you supposed to say that we have time left? That our memories will stay alive until we die?" He wasn't even angry, but he didn't want the depressing silence was unfold next to Annabeth. That would take him to the end of his sanity. "Encourage me to not leave others behind?"

"Those won't change another truth. But I'm hoping you'll realize those too." She gave him a wry smile.

Percy felt a shower of exhaustion splash down on him. "She used to sing me lullabies," he mumbled without thinking.

Annabeth glanced at a clock. "I'm sorry this was so tiring—"

"You're not tired," Percy blurted.

Annabeth shook her head, grinning for real. "All for the well-being of you, Percy. We can cut down to an hour and a half if you want."

He nodded. He wasn't thinking too clearly, but he hated the emotional pain, and he wanted to sleep. Even though he hadn't been able to really do that recently.

"I got a real bed moved in here. And I won't be making you drink a ton either."

He blinked and rubbed his eyes, hard. "Wait a moment." He checked his phone. It was on 5 percent battery and draining as he kept it on. "Um, do you have a charger?"

"Yeah, here," she said, pulling a cord out from her drawer and moving to the wall for an outlet.

He dialed Chris and hoped he wasn't at a party or, worse, going on a date with Clarisse. That was not something he wanted to imagine.

"Hey." Chris' voice was jumpy in his surprise. He heard some conversation in the back, a laugh, none of Clarisse's low growl. "Um, what's up? How are you doing?" His words were choppy and stilted. Percy realized he'd never given him a straight answer for that before.

"I'm…processing some things. A little bit sad," he said in a rush. Percy forced himself to take a breath and say at a normal volume, "It brought back some sad memories. It's painful. But, um, is Harvey there?"

Chris paused. "Yeah. Um, yeah." He heard his footsteps padding rapidly across a room. "Here. It's Percy," he whispered delicately to Harvey.

"Hi," Percy said, shutting his eyes for a moment. The last thing he wanted to do was be vulnerable in front of Harvey. He'd already seen his zoned-out state earlier. "Um, I just wanted to say I'm not coming back later. Maybe sometime in the morning, but—don't count on it." He suddenly felt conscious of Annabeth's gaze on his back.

"Oh. Okay." Harvey was silent. Percy grimaced, hoping this wasn't going to drive a wedge of awkwardness between them for a while. "I'm going to try to sleep. See you in the morning."

"Sure. Bye."

"Bye."

Percy steadfastly ignored Annabeth's eyes as he set his phone down by the outlet.

"Guilt is one of the best things to drive insomnia," Annabeth stated bluntly. "You'll have to get it off your chest somehow."

He gritted his teeth and stopped when the pain jarred his skull. "I don't think it'll be the only thing keeping me up."

"He'll understand that you need some time." She went ahead of him on the stairs. "Don't let guilt be the thing forcing you to make up for it."

"Is that the passive-aggressive way of asking me to do so?" he mumbled. Tiredness was stripping down his inhibitions more quickly than normal. He hadn't touched heroin in a week and a half, and every day he was restless and sleepy at the same time. There was the week where he was painfully conscious he didn't have any heroin. Then there were five days of being painfully conscious he chose to not have any heroin.

"Maybe," Annabeth said, hiding a smirk. "I'm going to grab a thicker set of blankets from another room. Feel free to change into the pajamas in the closet."

This time, he was awake enough to take the blankets from her and settle in himself. He was barely awake enough to remain sitting, but he didn't want to imagine what would happen he she tucked him in again.

"Sleep tight," Annabeth said. "I'll bring in a glass of milk if you're still up later." She paused as she was turning around. "And if you start to feel alone, realize you're in bad company." With a cheeky grin, she closed the door behind her.

Of course he was bad company. He listened hard and found out she was heading outside the room. Percy glared up at the ceiling. He would've preferred her for company.

He would just have to stop feeling alone then, and somehow get through the night.

**Yay! That took a while, but I'm kind of glad about what I wrote. This was my note halfway through: Shoot! I'm almost crying! In math class as I'm writing this! (I finished my classwork already in case you were worried.)**

**Au revoir,**

**Pride-and-loyalty**


	15. Chapter 15

**Cannot believe I'm back so soon. Oh well, I have to warm up for a seriously intense chapter that will probably take me a literal week to write. It's coming later, though, so relax for now. **

**Oh, on a side note, if I spend my time wisely, something else will probably be out around the time you read this: my entries for the CHB: Capture the Flag Forum/Competition! Most people post them in oneshots but I'll just leave them in a series, so look out for that. Also, if you were planning on signing up, sorry, that window is closed. (I think I said there was no deadline, but turns out there is. Heh.) Every round is two weeks though, so don't stay up for updates there. **

**Enjoy! **

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: Any gas compressed inside containers, even hairspray or cooking oil, is especially flammable. Other common household items are bedding, or the stuffing in chairs. Plastic is capable of being burnt, and some of the world's waste is being treated that way, but they need to be at extreme temperatures and taken away from oxygen in order to maintain safety._

For the second morning now, Percy was able to step outside the shower. The soap was slippery in his fingers, and he had to properly wipe himself off now instead of air-drying within a few seconds. For the third morning, he also swallowed a few pills after brushing his teeth, wondering when the effects would start.

But he had to pull on the same clothes from yesterday, all the tiles were slivery-blue and gleaming, and he was putting away a wooden toothbrush set inside the mechanical sanitizer. He was never awake for the early morning hours at Half-Blood Hill. He turned around the bathroom, enjoying it one last time. He'd gone in here a couple times again last night to pee, even though no one was providing a lot of drinks for him. The glass windows set inside every room and the end of the hallways were pouring in delicate gold light, and everything was warm and hazy.

Annabeth greeted him in his personally-claimed bedroom with slightly damp hair combed back into a tight bun and dark bags under her eyes. She set two steaming mugs of coffee on the side table and pulled back the flowery curtains. Dim, pale light slipped around the corners of the guest bedroom.

"Morning," she said, swallowing a yawn. "How was your stay?"

"Not that bad," he responded, grabbing the blue mug. He noticed it was no longer geometric-patterned but a glazed aquamarine. "I slept more than before. Is this new?"

"Yeah," Annabeth said lightly. "Do you like it?"

He gave her a small grin. Waving aside the steam, he found a small "s" carved inside the whipped cream. "Is the first word "just'?"

"Possibly," she said, chancing a sip of her hot coffee.

He sat down on his bed. Spending the morning with Annabeth was nice, but he'd admit the building was so quiet and empty it was a little eerie. It was like walking around someone's handcrafted dream, a place he should never have been invited in. "I should sleep at home more often." He rubbed his eyes, distantly wishing for a new set of clothes.

"Well, these rooms are always empty." Annabeth started tidying things around him, pouring out the last of the tea into a cup, straightening the pajamas inside the closet, and folding the bedsheets he handed her. "Waiting for someone to crash."

Percy watched her move around, so efficiently he wondered how often she did this. And then he wondered if she slept at all last night. He set his coffee down too and tried to plump up the second pillow. She smiled at him and stuffed it inside the closet with the rest of the things.

He wanted to say something about this showing how irresponsible he was, but the quiet was nice. Annabeth went outside, where the nightlamp was slowly fading to dark. His stomach stung as he got up, and he sat down again. She brushed one of the lamp's controls to get it to switch off completely, and fixed the throw pillow on the armchair. Percy realized an owl was stitched onto it and raised his eyebrow at her.

"What? Oh, the pillow." She shrugged. "I took arts and crafts a lot at summer camp."

"There's also glass sculptures on your desk. Why do you like them so much?"

"Because owls are supposed to be wise," she said with a smirk, brightening up the most for the first time this morning. They climbed the stairs back up to her office, and Percy noticed he was getting more tired with each climb. He leaned on the wall, trying to enjoy the sunniness, and smelled pine sap in the air. He noticed ashes scattered around the fireplace, along with burnt edges of paper.

Annabeth paused in the middle of rinsing the teapot. "I was catching up on some paperwork last night, and if I have too much to recycle, I just use them for heat. Why are you so curious today?"

He took a sip of his rapidly-cooling coffee. "I didn't see a lot of your private life last time I stayed here. Why do you know I'm curious?"

"Because I read people for a living." She knocked down the dredges of her coffee and dropped the mug in the sink, coming up with another smirk. Percy rolled his eyes and noticed that three rows of hooks ran above the tea/coffee station, one in gray, one in geometric, and a new collection of ceramic blue. He thought it looked nice.

She perched on the edge of her table, running her fingers around the tree's rings. Annabeth looked up. "Are you hungry?"

It was the same answer as usual. "No," he said flatly.

Annabeth bit her lip for one second, and he wondered if he was actually seeing her look worried. "Too bad," she said immediately afterwards. "You're coming with me."

She led the way down a few blocks with familiarity in her stride, and he just rushed to keep up and gazed around at the tiny shops with apartments stacked above. They were heading into a hipster-y side of town, and Percy heard that the marijuana business was better here. He felt the secret capitalist dealer rising inside of him: broke artists buying a few smokes was certainly not as profitable as a white powder getting passed around a trust fund-kid party. But Percy shook himself and forced his eyes onto the elaborate graffiti splashed across all walls and windows and gates. There were a lot of bubble letters and large-than-life portraits of strangers with their birth and deaths scratched beneath. Before they saw anything too interesting though, Annabeth suddenly ducked under a low striped awning Percy didn't even spot. And they were suddenly transported to a retro '80s-themed dinner. There were red pleather seats, a gleaming checkered floor, and waitresses skating around with fluffy hair. One girl scrolling through her phone jumped in the air when she saw Annabeth and, grinning hugely, rolled into the kitchen.

He sank into a seat by the wall. "It's best in here when there's not a lot of people and everything's quiet," she told him. "Everyone sleeps at 4 am around here, so we'll have the place for now."

"Hey you too," another waitress said, skating over. Her nametag read "Ava Wise." "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Can I order?" Annabeth asked.

He shrugged. "Just get something for yourself."

"I would like a pajeon, scrambled eggs, and a small stack of pancakes," Annabeth said without hesitation.

"Anything else? What about a milkshake?" Ava wagged her eyebrows.

"No, we would not like to share one. Thank you." Annabeth took her hand and smiled. "And come over to chat sometime."

"Of course!" Ava blew them a kiss and skated inside the bustling kitchen, something clanging as she entered.

"What a pajeon?"

"It's a green scallion pancake. From Korea." She smiled at his surprise. "You were the one who didn't even glance at the menu. They'll feed anyone who comes in here."

"I mean, I know it's New York, but it looks like it serves average diner food."

"And do you not expect surprises in New York?"

"Touché." He watched her take a napkin from the dispenser and begin to fold something. "Do you have any other surprises for me?"

She looked up, her eyes startlingly gray all of a sudden. "You sound like you have plans."

"Is that really so surprising?" He asked flatly.

"I don't think you'd be eager thinking about work." She pulled out a fold from the middle. "Do you want to spill?"

"No, I really don't have plans." He paused. "But I am looking forward to going home and seeing Harvey."

Annabeth's smile warmly curved around her face. "Sorry, I'm trying to not get overexcited."

He fiddled with a packet of sugar. "Yeah, I made a friend. Exciting."

"You're building up a community. And I heard from him the first time yesterday." She mustered up a smile. "He sounds smart."

"Yeah, he is."

Annabeth watched him carefully. "He's independent, isn't he?"

Percy looked over at her. "Yes. He has a brother. As of now, two." He felt himself tensing up slightly.

"Right. I heard about Leo. That was interesting."

He was tired, and losing his focus. "Jake Mason is an adult. But Harvey doesn't need someone to take care of him."

Annabeth's eyes were glassy. "No matter how old he is—"

Percy cut her cool tone off. "He doesn't need a new legal guardian." His voice rose slightly. "He is safe where he is. Why should he be trusted in a stranger's hands?" Percy swallowed as metal filled into his mouth. He was trying to force words out of his head, words that sounded like Grover and asked about his stepfather. _Violence is a pattern I know you can break_. And then the same splintering silence in the air.

Ava rollerbladed over with a few golden-brown, triangular disks and a heaped pile of scrambled eggs on one plate and bright blue pancakes on another. The color shoved tears into the back of his eyes: soft brown seared across the navy front, and then the strip of delicate, untouched sky blue circling the side of the pancake. The coloring was a little sloppier, not mixed so nicely, and when he poured the maple syrup it oozed out slowly instead of getting stuck inside the bottle and kept pouring. It just kept pouring.

"Woah there," Ava murmured, "you don't want to drown them."

Percy felt a smirk tingling at his lips. He took a bite. He only had a faint memory of what his mother's tasted like, more cakey and with less vanilla, but it was amazing nonetheless.

"Man, that expression is what I do this job for," Ava whispered, and someone in the kitchen yelled, "you didn't even make it!"

Ava rolled her eyes, brushed Annabeth's shoulder, and headed over to greet someone else at the door.

"Sorry," Percy said lowly, so softly he hoped Annabeth wouldn't hear. She dipped her head and also said sorry.

"I don't get a say about his life," she admitted. "He's should be able to pick."

Percy shook his head. "I shouldn't have gotten so worked up about this either. It's not my choice either." He paused and chewed another stab from the five buttery pancakes. "I get defensive. I started a fight with Grover about my stepdad." He rubbed his forehead. "I guess I'm so loyal to my mom I didn't want to think about how she married someone so bad."

Annabeth was picking up a piece of pajeon with her hands and chewing at some kimchi.

He decided to keep filling the silence. "There was also the implication that the violence would pass on to me, and I knew it would but I didn't want to think about it."

"And then the great divide opened between the two of you, right?" She licked her fingers and blushed a little when she noticed him looking. "Look, it's a possible reality. But there's no such thing as destiny. You can control if you are abusive or not."

Percy swallowed as he looked over at her. How did she sound so confident in that? Did she never consider…think about…if he was older and—

He didn't even want to put the thought into words. But something cold crept up his neck. Was it too late, that they were close already? _You do people a favor by not getting entangled with them. Don't you think they'll be better off if they don't listen to your issues? _Reyna's voice, sharp and clear as ever, suddenly popped into his mind. He wondered why it had disappeared for so long.

Annabeth set aside a napkin Leaning Tower of Pisa and frowned. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"For real?" He forked up a big chunk of pancake.

"Yes, gold-digger," she said, smirking as she fished inside her purse. "Sorry, I think I only have quarters."

He didn't have much time left to sort out his thoughts. He clutched the quarter inside his palm, his head pounding. "I guess I'll always be a little worried about turning out like him. And hurting the people around me. And I care about them, and I want to just go away to protect them." He bit his lip. "But that's wrong, I need to believe in my own strength or something."

Annabeth smiled and pulled apart a wedge. "Want a piece?"

"Fine." He still wasn't hungry, but the act of forcing food inside his mouth was rhythmic and somehow comfortable. He wanted to savor this moment while it was here. "How did Ava know?"

"Know what?"

"That I would like blue food." Percy raised an eyebrow.

Annabeth grinned. "When I was holding her hand, I traced the world 'blue' on her palm."

"Seriously? Couldn't you have said you were going to the bathroom or something?" He sat back. "Or do you like being a spy?"

"What do you think?" She flashed him a smile. She swallowed her last forkful of eggs. "Okay, there was something else I wanted to talk about that I brought you out here for."

"Shoot." He gazed over the table at her, stifling another sudden yawn.

Annabeth cleared her throat. "I know you haven't been doing that well. You're facing physical withdrawal, and I don't think if the worst has come yet." She paused and looked at his hand. "Can I feel for your pulse?"

Percy blinked and slowly pushed over his arm on the Formica tabletop. Her fingers delicately tiptoed over his skin, jumping over his jutting wrist bone and pressing down. His breath hitched for a moment until he had to softly gasp for air. The beat of his heart rose up against her fingertip.

She pulled back her hands, and Percy let his arm uselessly drop into his lap. She looked down for a moment at her plate. "I don't offer this often. Well, I don't get the choice to offer this a lot." She bit her lip. "Methadone. Have you heard of it?"

He squinted. "Yeah. Pills. Does it treat pain or something?"

"Sort of. It's supposed to reverse withdrawal effects and pain." Her voice was quiet.

Percy didn't say anything. If it was the miracle drug, she would probably be showing him a prescription.

"It differs for everyone, but it does have effects." She started turning her Tower around and around. "It is addictive."

Percy tried to choke back a bitter laugh.

She looked over at him. "I want to make sure you know all the options. It can lessen your cravings, and even more problems with withdrawal you will have to face. If you rebound—"

"It's harder to stay sober," he finished for her.

She nodded. "And you're more likely to overdose because you have a lower tolerance rate."

Percy wanted to go into a deep, empty sleep and disappear from this conversation. "Okay."

"You can develop dependency on methadone. And it has its own withdrawal effects, plus risk for nausea, slowed breathing, dizziness, extreme exhaustion…" she trailed off.

Percy drummed his fingers on the table and forced down another syrupy bite. "It doesn't seem like it will help me much."

Annabeth nodded. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."

"It was my choice to join those guys in the Dumpster alley," he said through his mouthful. "I was feeling low after breaking up with a girl."

Annabeth cocked her head. "Can I chance that she likes art, and you disagreed on your relationship but both were missing something, and you guys were together for a while?"

"Yeah." He breathed out a puff of air. "That girl. How do you even remember everything?"

She shrugged. "I am worried that you'll rebound," she admitted. "And I'm not sure if you've noticed, but you're showing some signs of organ failure," she whispered.

Percy's head jolted up, and he felt drained of whatever energy he had left. He knew this well enough; it was also mentioned in those waiting room pamphlets. It just wasn't something he liked to think about or hear out loud. "Yeah, I probably am."

"Irregular heartbeat, exhaustion, lack of appetite, difficulty exercising, and I'm guessing a sore abdomen," she listed out slowly.

He swept his plate clean of syrup with his last piece of pancake.

"I'm sorry for bringing all this up. I guess some part of me hoped methadone would reverse everything, and you could somehow prove that." She rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she repeated again, and straightened. "That's a made-up hope. You're young. A lot of those are also withdrawal symptoms. If you keep healthy now, it won't be that serious." She looked pointedly at his plate. "Including your cholesterol."

He pursed his lips at her. "Really? That's your grand conclusion?"

She laughed loudly. "I just had to say that. I took nutrition as an elective in college. I need to know, though, how frequently did you use?"

Percy thought for a moment. "At first, all the time. My first overdose scared me a little, so I went down to twice a day. More recently, when business got a little slower, I used less powder once a day. I'm almost a week sober now."

The smile she shared with him was huge and beautiful. He tried not to turn into jelly across from her.

"That doesn't help me at all, right?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"It's not great," she hedged.

Percy shrugged. "I never thought I'd get this far anyway." He wanted to joke about living a short, infamous life, just to make her smile again, but she probably wouldn't appreciate it.

She looked away and spotted the antique clock. "I think you have to go to work now."

He groaned. "Right."

"I started an hour ahead of you!"

Percy glared at her and threw a napkin in her direction.

Annabeth held up her hands. "I'm just sayin'."

-line break-

Sometimes, doing the most mundane things, like pouring through _The Odyssey _on the subway, the craving was the worst. It filled his lungs and wrapped around him in a chokehold. Percy swallowed and clutched his book, waiting for the bout to pass. He was getting more and more exhausted, and he couldn't help thinking everyone was staring at him.

Percy buried his forehead in the pages, trying to even out his breathing. He didn't even notice that his heartbeat was irregular until Annabeth tested it this morning, when her pulse beat against his. It was almost like hunger, crawling into his throat, thudding across his nerves. Blowing through his empty veins. He wanted to fill them with happiness, liquid sunlight. It was a taste, so primal and raw and instinctive he couldn't think.

Quietly, everything calmed down, an incessant pounding still at his spine, but his vision was slowly coming into focus. He didn't know what to think, what to do. He stared out at the dark tunnel, wondering how many stations he had missed. A memory of the day ambled past, something he couldn't let go.

Leo's reunion with Harvey. How he was suddenly picked up by his family, and by someone so welcoming. An unbelievably wonderful couple. He didn't want to think about it more, in case he invited the ache again. He slowly picked up his phone, and numbly selected "Contacts". He'd updated it for the last time, four days ago, at the adult sleepover.

He scrolled down until L, and selected LEO MCSHIZZLE VALDEZ. His friend had grabbed his phone while Percy was typing his number, of course, switched on All Caps.

It didn't ring for long. It was silent on the other end.

"Hey? Leo, what are you doing?" He tried to not choke on his awkward words. "Can I come over? Um, if you're there?"

He heard a deep breath, and a sigh. "Yeah." Leo's voice was a little quieter, but Percy had never called him before. "Please visit."

"Oh, great, thanks!" He tried to laugh in relief. "Thank you."

"I'll be waiting for you. Dude." Percy decided to not think too much about Leo's strangeness. They didn't know each other for long, and he had his own weirdness to think about. He waited for the intercom to come on, sifted through the string of mumbled words, and then got off to ride a few stations in the other direction. Since the shop was all the way by the highway, he still had to walk a distance, and it was sounding a lot more tiring now that he had to walk on his own. He hiked his too-baggy jeans up his legs and dragged himself out of the subway. Other people were good at distracting him, he decided. He was glad he decided to call Leo.

Percy finally rounded the corner to the right street, and across from him he could already see Calypso's small yet formidable figure pacing the cluttered parking lot. Percy glanced both ways and raced across the road, feeling a sudden urge of fear.

Calypso spotted him and lit up, striding between a dented Maserati and a camouflage-painted Range Rover. She smelled like a blur of flowers and bread and metal. "Percy! I'm so glad you're here!" She reached out, and Percy panicked for one moment, wondering if he would get pulled into a hug by her delicate, calloused hands. But she was just beckoning him down the lot, turning around as she walked. "Leo is being more irritable than usual today. It's not my place to tell you why, but I'm beyond trying to understand. I can't take care of him and the customers at the same time, so I need you to bring him somewhere safe. I know you're responsible," she said, pausing to flash him a warm smile.

Percy couldn't exactly return one. Internally, he was hoping he was going to get taken care of today, not the other way around. And he couldn't imagine whatever was going on with Leo. Calypso, in her floured apron and rubber gloves, marched around the back of the warehouse and they found Leo lying in the carpet of weeds.

Percy's throat closed and he struggled for air, his vision running a little. He thought he smelled smoke. But Calypso just went over and not-so-gently nudged him with the toe of her boot. "Get up, Leonidas! Percy's waiting for you."

Leo quickly got up, stamping an ashy patch of dandelions. He was putting on his devilish grin and patting himself off. "Hey, it's you! Wassup?"

Percy lifted one shoulder. "Could be better. You?" He noticed more smoke staining the air. Percy instinctively grabbed the rubber hose and splashed away the rest of the fire.

Leo only grinned wider. "Never been better." He threw his arm around Calypso's shoulders and spun around until he was right before Percy. "So, where are you taking Uncle Leo?"

"Um," Percy licked his lips. "I'm not sure. I thought you would have an idea." He looked in the direction of both of them.

Calypso threw off Leo's arm and stalked over to her kitchen. "Maybe somewhere idiot-proof!"

They both stood there in silence. Leo cleared this throat. "Chicks, am I right?"

"Right," Percy said slowly.

Leo reared back. "You sound like you need Uncle Leo's help finding a gal."

Percy took a few steps away from him. "No. No, I don't. Um, what's going on?" He folded his arms together.

Leo sighed as he looked up at him. "Sorry, Perce. I shouldn't have been keeping you in the dark." He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the ground. "Today is my mom's birthday." A few moments passed. "She's dead."

Percy felt like his legs would give out underneath him. He didn't want to face any of this for the second time in 24 hours. But it would be heartless of him to just turn and leave. "Oh. Where do you want to go?"

"She doesn't have a resting place. Calypso would kill me if I went to the bar. I can't stay here and perform my annual tradition." He dug a small hole in the ground with his toe. He looked up. "Can we, um, go to a karaoke place?"

That was the least place Percy wanted to be at. But his new friend was struggling with the worst heartbreak he'd ever faced, so he agreed.

-line break-

Leo had a long playlist in mind. All the songs he remembered hearing on the radio, the ones his mom liked to hum or sing to him, and then just random ones from when he grew up. Percy had only taken Spanish class for three-quarters of a school year before his foster parents had enough with feeding him, so he couldn't understand half of the songs, and the rest weren't much better.

Leo found the nearest karaoke place on Yelp while driving over the speed limit in a mint-condition antique Ferrari. Percy decided to not ask where he got the keys. They got a small room with a blinking disco ball and a low-resolution tv set. Percy remained sitting on the velvet couch, holding the other rhinestone-encrusted microphone away from him. If he tried to set it down, the feedback would squeal from the speakers, and Leo didn't want to figure out how to turn it off.

Every so often, one of the golden classics would come up, and Leo would prod Percy, who would begrudgingly mumble the words with him. There was the Rolling Stones, Freddie Mercury, and even Bob Marley. Finally, Leo plopped down beside him, panting slightly from the singing.

"Let's take a break," he breathed. "And then you're up."

"Why did you even listen to all of these with your mom?" Percy asked, deflecting.

Leo pushed his hair from his eyes. "We usually left the radio on while working. Fixing things. I usually had a couple of screws and the microwave or something. My mom just picked a station at random."

"We—didn't." Percy breathed out. "I don't remember."

Leo stared at him. "Really?"

"It's not like I'm going to find any lullabies. I don't even remember the words."

"Then sing the tune." Leo took his microphone, finally, and fiddled with the dials. Every sound they made was amplified.

Leo insisted, no matter how much he shook his head. Percy croakily hummed a few notes. The last words in a lyric were coming to him. "…in the sea," he whispered. The rest of the words were choked in his throat, and he dropped the microphone on the table.

"This is stupid. I'm a grown adult, and it was her song," he snapped. "You can keep doing whatever."

"I know it's stupid," Leo snapped back. "What else can I do?"

Percy sank into his seat. "What was that annual tradition?"

"I start a bonfire," he said softly. "And it keeps me warm."

Percy raised an eyebrow. That was better than anything he had to speak of: feeling depressed, and then feeling sad. "Is Calypso afraid that'll burn something down?"

"More like the customers will be disturbed by me."

Percy thought about it for a second. He sighed. He didn't want to admit where he lived, or why he would know about this in the first place. But, again, Leo was mourning his mother. "I know an abandoned lot. There shouldn't be any cops bothering us, or anyone else."

"Impressive street cred, huh?"

Percy leveled a flat gaze at him. He could tell Leo liked to joke around to play off the pain. "Do we need to gather kindling?"

"Nah." A slow smile spread across Leo's face. "A lot of things burn."

-line break-

After this, Percy tried not to think about how many flammable things Leo carried on a daily basis. At the lot, which was just chunks concrete split by tufts of dying grass and trash, Leo found a dry spot and simply kept pulling paper and fabric scraps from his pockets. He doused the steadily-growing pyramid with lighter fluid and gasoline, and then a small metal lighter. He tenderly rubbed it before flipping off the cap, and guiding the flame to the pile.

It steadily caught fire, the flames licking through everything immediately. He fed it with the trash around the lot, leaving the plastic well alone, "because they'll release toxic chemicals," he explained, and they both sat on the freezing concrete.

"Doesn't it feel nice?" Leo murmured.

From Percy's angle, the shadows and heat engulfed him, almost like he was on him. Percy looked away and nodded.

"Have you ever heard of chlorine trifluoride?" He shook his head. "It's the most interesting chemical ever. It can burst into flames if it comes into contact with pretty much anything. It's a pretty toxic gas, and makes fluoride and everything, but it can burn concrete and even water." His eyes glowed in the firelight.

"No. I didn't get a good grade in chemistry."

"Me neither." Leo played with his lighter. He rested his chin on his low knees. "My mom died in a fire."

Percy nodded.

"I started it."

Percy closed his eyes.

"It's not my fault," Leo chanted quietly, like a mantra. "It's not my fault."

"It's not," Percy tried to say firmly. It was strange, realizing Leo actually believed that between the two of them.

Leo turned to look at him. "No, it's not." He tossed an empty manilla envelope into the fire. A strange smell rose into the air. He grimaced. "I forgot about the plastic window."

Percy felt a little like smiling, for no reason at all.

They sat there, gazing at the ever-changing, ever-glowing fire. Leo suddenly shifted, and he pulled out a bottle of whisky. They both stared at it. Leo took off the cap and had a small swig. His face twisted and he held the bottle out to Percy.

Percy gazed at the clear, golden liquid sluicing behind the glass. He thought about the low burn, the bracing fuzzy warmness. He took it, brought it up to his lips. He wondered how quickly the weakness inside of him and the piercing ache for heroin and the slow tide of sadness would go away, and why the medicine wasn't working. If it would just all flow away. He felt a breath leave his lungs.

And then slowly, every part of him sobbing, he twisted his wrist and the whisky tumbled out from the bottle. The stream twisted and shook his grip and splashed into the fire, dousing it slightly and soaking into the slips of paper before the flames raced back, the streaks of smoke grabbing for the sky. Leo didn't make a sound as the last few mouthfuls of whisky gurgled as it left the heavy glass bottle. A sharp, misty smell hit them both as the alcohol evaporated.

"You have a wife, a family. You are not choosing something else over them." Percy felt his words sour inside his throat, and he knew it was traitorous to bring that up. Like anyone could replace the already-empty space in their lives. But he had family here on earth, apparently a little brother, and a wife, legally tied to him. He knew it wasn't easier to be related by blood, and Annabeth was only one case out of millions. But he remembered it was natural to feel like he belonged with his mother, and he wondered if he was ever going to finally feel that again.

Percy watched the damp papers: news, tissues, printed letters fading into the fire. "And I can't be addicted to two things at once."

Leo glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. "Sorry, man."

"No, I get it." It was a little disorienting to see Leo so different from the person he met four days ago. But eventually, all the pain they carried inside had to escape in some way. Leo probably spent most of these days alone, like Percy did, trying to hide his weakness which they couldn't face other people with. Percy almost wanted to leave, knowing that he was disrupting the few times Leo could open up and be alone with his memories, knowing he would hate to be seen like this, but it was also nice to see that his suffering was shared. And he could only hope that would comfort Leo a bit.

"Te extraño, mamá," Leo whispered, his face buried inside his knees. _I miss you. _

Finally, he looked up and pushed some more trash into the flames. "It gets better," he said, not exactly looking at Percy. "The sadness doesn't leave you, man, I hate to break it you. But you keep—"

"The good memories," they finished together.

Leo gently punched his shoulder. "So you know it too, bro. You learn to be happy at the same time."

"Yeah, I know that already." He gave him a small smirk. He was realizing that yeah, he was learning that. And it was getting better.

Leo shoved him, and he skidded a few inches away from the blaze. Percy gasped and, without thinking, took out his omnipotent water bottle and dumped the contents on Leo's curly head. He made sure to avoid extinguishing the bonfire.

Leo yelled and they started grappling with each other, their skinny arms swinging without much force. "I hate being wet," Leo yelped, dodging him.

"And you tried to burn me!" Percy said, trying to choke down his laughter and breathe evenly at the same time.

"I'm innocent!" Leo said, trying to shake his hair dry.

When it was quite obvious that Percy was going to win, at least from his perspective, Leo surrendered by slipping out from his grasp. They slumped around the fire, Leo trying to dry himself, Percy trying not to freeze as the temporary warmth from the exertion was replaced by the cold again.

Leo's hair was frizzing up like crazy when it finally lost its dampness, and Grover's voice still echoing in his mind, Percy carefully dropped the whisky bottle next to the cranes inside his bag. He'll find a recycling bin somewhere.

"Let's go," Leo said, buttoning up his coat.

But before either of them could move, a blaring police car jumped down the street, a dark spiky head jutting out the window. Percy felt some long-buried instinct tense inside his muscles and scream at him to run. But then the cop tore off her tinted sunglasses, her bright blue eyeliner-rimmed eyes aiming a million lightning bolts directly away from him.

"Valdez, what the h*ll do you think you're burning?"

**Yes! Finally! Actually, this was totally impromptu, but I was thinking I needed to write more cliffhangers, and this mysterious person was going to appear soon anyway. My writing teacher told me a long time ago that the best fanfics ended with a To Be Continued…**

**Since I'm feeling very chatty, I also had a pretty long rant in mind. I know some of you guys are wondering about the romance aspect here. First of all, yes, this is a Percabeth fic. But I'm not going to be promoting love-is-the-cure or have slow burn throughout this whole thing. I started out thinking I would, but writing this has been a total learning curve. I learned that, one, romance does not belong everywhere. Percy is depressed, and honestly, that makes him a lot less prone to running off into the sunset with someone, and in my research, I learned that one of the effects of using heroin is lowered sexual attraction/ability or want to maintain a relationship. I know I haven't been totally on top of all the facts here, but I do want to have some accuracy. Also, I'll admit, most of my romantic plots goes like this: Annabeth sees Percy, realizes how hot he is, falls head over heels. Really shallow, I know, but who doesn't like reading those? And, well, that's not exactly the same in Percy's perspective, and now I've got to figure out what love is really built on and how it grows. Lastly, let's just pretend one more time I'm a real, certified psychiatrist. (It's shocking, I know.) If they were to enter a relationship right now, at this stage of their personal growth, what would it look like? Annabeth would be supporting and taking care of Percy wholly, and while that is sweet and everything, what can he give in return? His love, sure, but what about his bad days? What about Annabeth's bad days? Does this sound healthy to you? Percy would realize this and feel guilty, and Annabeth would be utterly aware of that. So, y'all will have to wait a bit. **

**Review replies: **

**Violet2971: Okay, technically no one is getting tired of fillers, maybe that's just me. Sorry, I like to put incendiary things in A/Ns so maybe someone will review *cough*. If I portray my happy chapters realistically, there's still going to be something to work on. Otherwise, writing fillers are sooooo boring. Well, actually, one day your wish will come true. *winks* In the books, Harvey and Leo are both Hephaestus kids, so I decided to just drop that in. Thanks for reviewing! I hope you do try something like that in the future!**

**Nooo30pony: Hey! It's nice to see you here! Thanks for all the really nice things you said. The fact that this was touching almost made ME tear up! It was like you read my mind, because the things you mentioned are happening. Those chapters are coming a lot faster than I expected… but yeah, I'll try to write them quickly for you. Thanks again! (Also, sorry, no A Lady and Sir sequel coming. There aren't any ideas waiting in the wings for that.)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Yay, I'm back. I was excited for this chapter, and I know it's kind of random but I just wanted to try this out for the first time. This is the third draft (plus a million minor edits), hopefully it's the charm *crosses fingers*. Also, the next chapter is going to be a whirlwind. As opposed to the storm after it :).**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: Green Day is a band formed in 1986, consisting of Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt, and often collaborating with Tré Cool. The fourth track on their most popular and claim-to-fame album, Dookie, is named "Longview" after Longview, Washington. The bass line was written while the singers were high on LSD or acid, who miraculously remembered it in the morning, and it is about mind-numbing boredom._

Leo was fidgeting more than usual. He glanced at Percy through the corner of his eye, probably trying to convey something, but Percy was in the crosshairs of a mental battle between running away and staying with his friend. The flashing sirens, the spiky-haired cop's glare, her sliver badge, everything was making bile rise up in his throat. But his fear was also making him seize up, act untouchable, and he probably shouldn't be puking.

Percy knew the specific brand of policemen he was familiar, truant officers and in extend, social workers, set out to do good. He was also guessing this woman wasn't a truant officer. But the foster care system was something he was still scared of as an adult. And he couldn't forget about Silena. His stomach churned.

A question slowly formed in his mind. The officer had called Leo "Valdez." How did she know his name?

"Well?" She growled. "Why are you burning something in the middle of this strange street?"

Percy froze, but they both ignored him. Leo shut his eyes for a moment, and then his smile flickered back on. "Well, maybe I don't want to freeze to death on this cold day, Thals. I'm still in the prime of my youth."

"Thals" got out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Percy's eyes automatically fell to her belt, holstered with a gun and little clip-on bags, most likely for her phone and keys. But she was still glaring with the force of a thousand suns at Leo.

"There is a brick oven under your home," she said slowly. "You can't freeze to death."

Percy blinked. She even went to the shop?

Leo's smile turned even more roguish. "Everyone needs to get out sometimes, Thalia."

She shook her head. "Okay, who are you and why are you hanging around with this clown?"

Percy straightened, feeling like he was snapping to attention. "I'm Percy." He swallowed. Warnings and half-baked thoughts fluttered around his mind. He wondered what Reyna would advise him to do. But they weren't adults then. He swallowed the taste of acid again, and remembered to be polite.

"We're just friends, ma'am," he said whispering slightly. Reyna wouldn't have said that, if she somehow got into this situation, and he tried to hide a wince. He'd been ignoring everything she told him for so long.

Thalia's eyebrows were raised, but she collected herself and nodded sharply. "Annabeth's new favorite person. Stay away from Valdez."

"I'm the best kind of role model!" he protested.

Thalia suddenly breathed out a long sigh, her expression heavy. "Valdez, cut the BS. I know what day it is. But it doesn't give you any excuse for destruction or spiraling. Get it together," she said sharply.

Percy glanced at Leo sidelong. He was suddenly grateful for Annabeth, even more than usual. She was tough with him if he believed in something wrong, but at least she didn't treat him like Calypso and Thalia. Maybe he was more delicate. Or pretty much always depressed, and no one hoped to meet a better version of himself. But the ghost of Annabeth hovering in his mind beside Grover and Reyna was shaking her head hard, so he pushed those thoughts away

Leo didn't waver at all. "I was just hanging out with my friend, this bright young boy," he said, throwing an arm around Percy. "I can't help it if everyone wants to be around Uncle Leo."

For some reason, instead of cowering in fear, Percy suddenly had the urge to roll his eyes.

Thalia turned on her glower again. "I see you're being as frustrating as ever. Don't do anything stupid, or I'll happily be the one taking you to the station."

"You know, you don't need an excuse to take a drive with me," Leo cut in.

Thalia gagged, almost turning green. "Clean this up, I'll drive you two home. That just sounds so fun."

Leo smirked and then gave Percy a slightly panicked expression. He clearly had nothing to stop fires with. Percy lifted a second reusable water out of his bag, still forcing himself to stop trembling. "I can handle it," he said, leaking out a steady stream.

Leo's eyes bugged out as Percy doused the fire, purposely diverting his eyes from the dying flames. "Seriously! How much water do you even carry around? Those metal bottles are heavy!"

Percy shrugged, watching the last of the orange fire whisk away. There was a small pile of soggy ashes and a black smear on the concrete. "I drink a lot. Six glasses a day is good for your lifespan."

Leo furrowed his eyebrows. "Weirdo."

"Says you, Valdez," the cop blurted, and then bent over laughing.

Leo turned slightly red, but then he raised an eyebrow. "Really, Thalia? Channeling your inner middle-schooler?"

"Still accurate." Thalia straightened, the eyeliner a little blurred around her eyes from tears. She cleared her throat. "You should listen to him. You could probably put out a few more fires if you carried water around."

Percy tucked his bottle back in his bag and stared at them both. They had a strange relationship indeed. And he was vaguely recalling a Thalia being mentioned to him, probably from Piper, as Jason's sister? He did a double take. Thalia looked nocturnal almost, her skin as pale as moonlight, and her hair was pitch black. She was also lithe and angular. Her brother, actually taller than her, was deeply tanned, doubled up in muscles, and had a head of cropped blond hair. The only possible resemblance was their piercing blue eyes, but set in Jason's even, wide-jawed face they were a darker sky blue and next to Thalia's cheekbones they were electrically fizzing and light.

He wasn't exactly surprised Leo was better friends with Jason.

"It's no longer smoking?" Thalia straightened and snapped open the back door of the car. "Stop standing around, then!"

Percy numbly crawled in there behind Leo, trying to block up the wave of memories that were washing up. He remembered his first word in the coffee mugs, breathe, and tried to focus on that. Distantly, he heard Thalia say, "This is your last time riding without cuffs, Valdez." She turned off the siren and spun onto the street, and Percy felt himself relax slightly.

And then she was flying down every intersection, crossing through red lights, swinging around people, curving centimeters away from crashing into other cars. No one honked or yelled at her. Percy felt like he was in a different universe.

Thalia drove straight through the highway, not stopping for anything, and essentially arched off the exit and landed in the parking lot of the Valdez's shop, where Calypso was wringing her hands and looking like she wanted to stuff Leo inside their brick oven with the loaves of dough. Percy tried to relax his grip on the door handle and was shaking with suppressed screams.

"Out, Valdez." She turned to face Percy, who tried not to flinch. "And where do you live?"

(time skip)

Clarisse's little gang of Misfit toys was lounging around the sidewalk outside an abandoned, unsuccessful park, trying to gather shade from the prickly, dry bushes and dead weeds, or vandalizing the pavement that wasn't cleared. This was ten years ago, and all the profanities written in permanent marker were scrubbed away, but it was as much of a junkyard as ever.

Percy, younger and brighter-eyed, was sitting underneath an overhanging shelf of bushes, waiting for Connor to deal out his well-worn pack of cards. They were playing Blackjack with a few pieces of gum and change. Percy didn't know how to play, and he had trusted the Stolls to teach him fairly.

Behind them, Reyna was in one of her darker moods because Clarisse pushed her off when she offered to lead everyone to a drier place for the night, and they'd woken up coated with mildew on soggy cardboard boxes. She was sharpening her long knife with a whetstone she'd probably intimidated from someone, slowly and rhythmically, and everyone kept a long distance from her. Nico was staring on invisibly in the depths of the shadows, somehow staying still enough to disappear, his luminous eyes only catching the light occasionally as he watched the Blackjack game in wonder. Bianca was probably searching for a cleanish bathroom or food, which she did a lot of recently. "She's growing," Reyna explained to Percy. "Can't imagine where her early spurt came from."

Percy was then lost in his memories of marking his height on the kitchen doorway. Travis and Connor started cackling, and he looked down to see their cards. He cursed under his breath and pawned over his oldest, wrinkled and leathery piece of Wrigley's.

Travis rubbed it with his thumb. "Nuh-uh, Jackson, pay up!"

"I thought the rules said I'm just supposed to pay what I have!"

Nico's voice floated out from the darkness, "You're supposed to pay the best of what you have. Travis explained it earlier."

Percy glared at them all. He was fishing in his pocket for his precious blueberry-flavored bubblegum when something roared around the corner.

Everyone flinched and dove for shelter. Percy dashed next to the wriggling Nico, unhappy his space was being bombarded.

But a familiar muscular figure was unfolding from the rusted door. "Guys! Check out this beauty!"

Reyna was the first to step out, straightening out her favorite purple coat. "What in the world is that." Her tone was too flat to rise into a question.

Beck leaned against the iron-toned frame. His bulk seemed too big by itself. "Only the best machine to ever grace this street!"

The name didn't occur to Percy. Travis and Connor straightened up in sync and walked around it, their fingers darting around the beaten, cracked upholstery and cracked plastic cupholder, the horrifically splinted glass windows and the dusty glove compartment before slipping back inside their pockets. They turned their noses up and sat down by their cards in a flash.

"So?" Beckendorf sputtered.

"There's nothing of worth in there," Connor said, rearranging his cards.

"Along with the car itself," Travis finished.

Beckendorf's broad eyebrows levered together. "Come on! A stranger gave me this gorgeous vintage for free to thank me! When does that happen?"

"When someone is freeloading their trash," Reyna said in a low voice Percy attuned himself to hear. She talked like that when she was pissed, and he didn't want to miss a word if they turned out to be directed at him.

Percy pushed himself up, feeling the coins jangle in his pocket. He moved around a few of the Stolls' cards, but he still thought they would rearrange them nicely for him. Percy went over to Beck. "How is it still running?" he asked, failing at hiding his curiosity.

Beckendorf flipped up the hood, his biceps curling like dark axels. "It took a bit of tweaking, but I got the engine to work. It only runs for thirty minutes at a time though, but she can go up to incredible speeds! And the gas tank has a tiny little hole, but I patched it up with some spare parts the auto shop is always throwing out." Percy squinted at the wad of duct tape and nodded. "The radio's incredible! I got Jersey's station on the way here. I had to take it out, but it's got a '88 extendable antenna and a lacquered faux cherrywood surface!"

He was being too cheery. Percy could guess why.

Travis looked up, working through his wad of gum. "Does it turn on by itself?"

"No, it's connected to the car's energy."

"Then it just guzzles gas?" Connor pressed his lips together, unimpressed.

"Well, it's a car," said a new voice. They all turned to Bianca, panting slightly as she strode down the sideway. "We can go to so many places with it! I've always wanted to go somewhere _not _owned by a gang."

Beckendorf's eyes glinted. "Yeah, I was thinking we could drive down Brooklyn bridge!"

Nico planted down a card, which the Stolls gasped at. He stood up. "I heard they sell ice cream souvenirs."

"Yeah, that's something I can't miss," Reyna said, tucking her whetstone away in a fold of her jacket. She climbed into the back. "Get in already."

The Stolls were examining the cards, chattering lowly to one another. They glanced up as one when Bianca asked, "Well?"

"We'll give the two dollars in coins to Nico," Connor said sullenly.

"You have some strange talent with cards." Travis stood up.

"But that's not happening again," Connor finished, opening the door for them.

Nico was squeezed to the front, and Percy got squished between the Stolls and Reyna, who refused to be "handled by ruffians." He didn't know how she missed most years of high school and still memorized an SAT vocab book. From the fact that his butt barely touched the itchy pleather seats and how he could feel Reyna's sword brushing him on one side and then, well, nothing from Travis (which meant his hand was definitely rummaging around Percy pocket), it was probably the worst position to be in. Bianca was churning at the window, which still had to be literally rolled down, and then pushing most of her upper body out of it. At least, other than Beckendorf, they were pretty much skin and bones.

"You ready?" Beck yelled.

There was a resounding chorus of mumbled nos and they sped off towards the Brooklyn Bridge.

(time skip)

Percy had one word on his mind: breathe. He woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, well, as well as he could've. Then he rolled over and noticed Annabeth sending him an address in a text.

As he rubbed lavender soap over his body, as he retched a little into the toilet, breath. As he forced down Harvey's soft scrambled eggs, as he climbed down the stairs, breathe. As he went down the block and slowly inched across the road, eyeing every car suspiciously: breathe. As he counted the number of buildings down a road and realized there was a buzzer for each apartment: breathe. When the door creakily swung open for him and he was crawling up the stairs, he could no longer think of breathing.

But it was too late. He was padding down a chipped hallway, and his feet automatically turned to a stop at 803. The number was burned into his memory. Building 557, Apartment 803. He struggled again to get air into his lungs. _Breathe. Breathe. _And his hand was rising out of its own account, curling up, bumping against the door.

The low murmur from inside that he suddenly noticed quieted down. There was a quick profusion of noise, and the door opened, and three legs slammed onto him. Percy was about to fall straight onto the hallway when an arm reached out and yanked him upright. He flinched, pulling his arm away, and was a little lightheaded, but then composed himself enough to see Fitzwilliam snuffling enthusiastically at his pants.

Percy let a small smile break through and patted Fitz's spotted head. Two other dogs, also strays from the look of them, gravitated towards him to explore his feet.

"Hi, sorry about that!" Annabeth's arm was awkwardly hanging at her side. "For Fitz's eagerness, and for touching you."

He shrugged, his smile disappearing slightly. "It's fine. Thanks for pulling me up." He tried to look around without seeming too curious. Annabeth's apartment was just as a small as Grover's, with the kitchen island serving as a dining table, and DVD player in the cupboard besides the small TV, and two doors set on the far wall. It was full of scenic pictures, knit blankets, and a Guinness record-winning number of owl tchotchkes. Fitzwilliam and a mutt sat by his feet while the other short Yorkshire terrier jumped onto the woven couch cover.

"Jackson!" A newly familiar voice yelled from the kitchen. "You're here too?"

Percy had to admit, he almost peed his pants at Thalia's voice. Yesterday, when he and Leo finally explained what they were doing there, burning paper and things, she drove them back to Calypso who yelled at them again. When Annabeth sent him her address, she did not mention anyone. And Percy knew for a fact how close Thalia and Annabeth were, and how she would probably prefer to spend time with her best friend, alone. And she was in her police uniform, which would always scare him to death. It was bedazzled with sliver, and there was an arrow pin on the front pocket for some reason, but it was police uniform nonetheless.

Thalia strutted out from behind the kitchen counter, chewing a granola bar. "Well, look at you, Annabeth's favorite person in the world."

Percy wanted to gulp. Her tone unnerved him.

"Thals, be quiet," Annabeth said quickly, her cheeks turning a little red. "I didn't know you would be visiting, and he was on the subway already when you showed up."

They both turned to look at him, Percy because he never told her that, Thalia to say, "Well, you still could've uninvited him!"

"You were just coming here to chat. Work starts for you in twenty minutes," Annabeth said pointedly. "If you don't get in a car accident, you should be able to make it with your usual 90 meters per hour pace."

Thalia raised an eyebrow. "You're really annoying, Beth."

"I love you too," Annabeth said with a grin. Thalia glared at her, pulled her keys out from one of the compartments on her sliver belt and dramatically slammed the door.

"She's a diva," Annabeth said with a shrug, shooing the dogs away from his feet. "You know Fitzy already, the mutt is Josephine, from _Little Women, _then there's the cat sleeping over there called Mercutio, Romeo's best friend, and the Yorkshire is Andromache."

"From the myth of Perseus?"

Annabeth raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Yeah." She scrambled to organize the papers on her kitchen table, shutting a few thick binders and moving them into a stack. "Did you have any breakfast?"

He sat down at the stool she gestured to. Her chairs were mismatched. "Yeah." Toasted bagels, slathered with cream cheese and garlic and ham, were the last thing he used up his savings on. He would probably go back to skipping the meal while Harvey whipped something up from the mysterious grocery bags. "You can finish yours though."

Annabeth's looked like she was taking a photo shoot for a recipe book, with a colorful fruit salad, whole-wheat toast spread with peanut butter, and a milky cup of coffee. It was also completely untouched.

She frowned at the meal for a moment. "I asked you to come so we could run together. I should've finished this already." She quickly ripped off a chunk of bread.

"It looks nice," Percy injected.

Annabeth passed him a fork and explained, "Research shows that peanuts are best eaten at breakfast, and coffee. There's also the main components: fruit, vegetables, carbohydrates, and I'm just going to combine protein with dairy."

"O-kay." He speared a piece of mandarin orange.

Annabeth gave him a small smile. "Sorry, I know it's early in the morning."

"No, it's just seven am." He rested his chin on his hand. "I guessed we were running when you told me to wear sports clothes, but where are we going? Park again?"

"Actually, there's a pretty scenic route a few alleys away, just a lot of the antique New York apartments. We shouldn't run more than a mile."

Percy leaned back. "Yeah, maybe a lot less than that."

"Fine, I'll shrink down my normal route even further," she said with a smirk. "Just six blocks, then?"

Percy resisted sticking out his tongue.

Annabeth drained her coffee. "Come on, you're a great swimmer. You had better stamina than me at the beach." She drummed her fingers on the table. "You know what, I'll give you a reward at the midpoint."

"Fine," he said, pushing himself up. "I'm just going for this mystery gift."

"Turn around then," Annabeth said with a grin. Percy dutifully did so as she quietly moved around her kitchen. "Alright, let's go," she said, hoisting a bag up onto her shoulder that the dogs were rather interested in. "You can leave the duffel of cranes on the couch."

They slowly jogged, Percy's lungs aching more and more as they headed down the block, the icy air sawing through them as he heated up, and then they were crossing a big intersection. The oxygen seemed to freeze up in his muscles and he had to scramble after Annabeth when the light finally turned green. She forged ahead in a damp alley, but Percy's newish shoes dragged to a stop. His breathing seemed to disappear, like he just stuck a needle in a vein, but he wasn't feeling the same release.

"Percy? Are you okay?" Annabeth said, her jogging in place a rhythmic background music.

"Yeah." It was probably premonition or déjà vu or something, but he didn't want to go inside the alley. But he swallowed away the soreness in his throat and went ahead. "I think I got lightheaded."

"We can slow down."

"Yeah, okay, thanks." He avoided looking around at the alley and stared at his feet instead.

"So, how's the withdrawal symptoms?"

"That's a really great conversation topic, Annabeth."

"Well, I genuinely want to know."

"How many have you guessed?"

"Nausea, maybe? Restless sleep, fast heartbeat would explain the lightheadedness, and you've probably been irritable at some point?"

"Yeah, a little bit," he admitted. His annoyance was just lurking beneath the surface. He hoped it wouldn't burst out soon.

"The craving is really bad at night," he said softly over their mismatched footfalls. "I think I want to stay at Grover's place tonight."

"Harvey?" Annabeth breathed quietly.

"I don't want to tell him," Percy said. "We're not talking much right now."

Annabeth was quiet for a few more minutes. "You know what that sounds like, right?"

"I mean, if I'm heading to Grover's, I'll probably have to tell him then."

"I don't know, I can always find an opportunity to make excuses for myself. You could just tell him you two want to hang out some more."

Percy swallowed, because that thought had floated around his mind. "Even if he knows, I don't want him blocking the door for me because I'm trying to bust out. He should be sleeping at night."

"What if he wanted to?"

"It's not right." Percy's feet seemed to grow heavier. "He should have better role models."

"On the contrary, you've decided to give up heroin. That is a big deal."

"Yeah, but I'm not exactly making anything out of my life. If I was a doctor or something that would be more inspiring."

"The cycle doesn't end. You could be an astronaut instead, or the president. Sometimes you just have to trust that he's smart enough to figure out the rest of it himself."

"He needs a better home," Percy whispered to himself. But he remembered their fight about adoption, and he still hated that idea. Annabeth didn't answer to that.

"Grover volunteered to sleep next to the door. And he's impossible to roll over, so I think that's the best solution up from being chained up."

Annabeth mustered a smile. "I would also volunteer for that job."

Percy blinked. He couldn't imagine showing her his apartment, and then her laying out a sleeping bag before the heavily-locked door. "Um. I'll pass."

"It's going to be over someday."

"Yeah, unless I undergo surgery or something."

"I can make sure the doctors don't give you anesthesia," Annabeth said with a real grin. "You'll just have to make sure to keep out of accidents."

"I think they're called accidents for a reason."

She winked, and curved out of the alley onto a picturesque cobbled street. The apartments weren't the most expensive on the market, but they were still standing up and smooth brick facades were painted pastel. Percy felt his lungs expand again.

"It's pretty nice here, right?"

"Yeah, it would look better if there weren't so many boarded-up restaurants."

"But you get to enjoy simply the apartments this way." They passed little nightlamps shaped like peaches, a black-and-white TV, shutters with peonies printed on them.

"Isn't it remotely disturbing to you to go around admiring buildings people live in?"

"No, I'm appreciating this antique architecture."

Percy rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe how big of a nerd his therapist was.

A car rumbled by, the engine thrumming in his bloodstream, and he felt like he could hear the clogs in the wheels clicking. It wasn't anything like what he thought he'd seen in the alley, but everything was swirling up around him, and the dull pain in his leg muscles grew bracing, and the literal sea his stomach burst into a volcano.

Hunching over, his thighs hurting more, he puked his bagel onto the pavement.

Annabeth took in a sharp, startled breath and rushed to his side, her hands fluttering over him but afraid to touch any part of his coat. Percy could only pant slightly, trying to not melt in the thick awkwardness hanging around them, his eyes trained on a red Astros shirt in one of the windows. She handed him a handkerchief when he finally straightened.

"Sorry," he mumbled, pulling a small bottle of water from his pocket.

Annabeth raised her eyebrows at it but didn't comment. "No, it's not your fault." She rummaged inside her bag and came out with a jingling box of mints. "Don't apologize."

He drained the water and wiped his mouth with her apparently handwoven handkerchief. She just kept pulling stuff from her bag. Sucking on a mint, he looked at the ground as he said, "No, I couldn't keep up. I guess we're not running now."

"Don't apologize for that either!" Annabeth sounded concerned, a tone he was getting all too familiar with. "Do you need to sit down?"

"No, we can still walk. But I should probably clean that up."

Annabeth pulled out a few paper towels from her bag. "I'll help you." They deposited the wad in a trash can, and then she passed around some hand sanitizer.

When everything was all cleaned, Annabeth started moving ahead again, but at a slow pace. Percy ran a hand through his hair, hoping to comfort himself with the lavender smell as he followed behind. The Astros shirt was gone, but the black-and-white TV was still playing a movie. "Actually, I'm not sure if that was just because of withdrawal—," he was saying when a shrill scream cut him off.

(time skip)

Beckendorf was a humble person. He smiled, well, not a lot, but more often than the rest of them, and he was always down-to-earth. He never refused to give a hand at something mechanical, like when a certain tall brown-haired runaway broke the back door of a beauty salon.

But on an essentially protein-less diet of canned soup and garbage scraps, he looked like an expensive gym's top bodybuilder. Maybe he didn't mean to show off. But whenever he lifted something heavy, or ran, it sure looked like he was.

Reyna just did the customary hundred crunches, push-ups, and squats for her morning routine, as opposed to her evening one. She ran a hand along the back of her neck, checking for sweat. It was a steamy, sauna-like morning that New York did best. Her hand was bone-dry. She plopped down next to Percy against the bridge, stretching out her legs. Some brainiac said being around the lake would cool them off, since water absorbed heat or something. Percy wanted to confirm that, except they were still baking, and he didn't want to get beaten up alongside the brainiac when it was cool enough for Clarisse to muster up her energy.

"Well, this is boring," she said lazily. "When is another gang going to cross into our territory for us to fight?"

"I hope that doesn't happen," Nico said, nervously touching the underside of his arm.

"You know, if you fought, you would get injured less easily," Reyna informed him.

Bianca was in the middle of getting up and threw an arm around Nico's scrawny shoulders. "It's his best bet to hide and stay safe. We shouldn't wish for more fights." And then she disappeared somewhere down the bridge.

Nico scowled at the shadows, clearly about to protest that he didn't need protection.

"Well, it's too peaceful," Reyna said, rolling out the muscles in her neck. "It's not going to be like this for long."

They heard low pants coming their way. Beckendorf, turning a shade darker in the sun and veiled in sweat, gave them a quick wave before turning around.

"Who runs for fun?" Travis groaned, shielding his eyes.

Reyna gazed into the distance, her eyes turning slightly wistful and slightly hard like they did whenever she thought about Lupa. Percy wondered for the millionth time why Reyna abandoned the "pack" for their scraggly gang. "No one," she said quietly.

"I think it's to stay fit," Nico offered.

"Not like he has someone to impress," Connor snickered before they all shot him with dark gazes. Percy felt something acidic twinge in his gut.

They watched the receding form of Beckendorf disappear into the heat waves when Clarisse roared, "Move!"

Percy spotted it in a few seconds. A familiarly blue-stripped cruiser, almost hunched over behind the bridge railing. It was too close. They've never been so near the police before. Everyone scrammed, running for the streets. Long past were the days of sirens, or moving as a flock. They dispersed into alleys, backyards, in every direction possible. They considered this neighborhood their territory and patrolled it all the time. They could get lost.

Beckendorf burst out from behind a building. Percy's instincts were storming, and he was about to dive behind a trash can when he picked up on Beckendorf's face. He was trying to swallow his loud breathing, more sweat budding up on his face. Percy sped into the alley in front of them. Michael Yew and a few others loomed out of the darkness.

"Don't move," Beck hissed between his teeth.

Percy didn't bother to reply that he knew.

He certainly did not run for fun.

(time skip)

"Thalia, hey," Annabeth's voice was hushed, nothing like the teasing tone they were using with each other earlier. "I need you to come find me. I'm at 23th street. Behind building 623."

Chills were crawling up his skin again from being in an alley, and he kept his back firmly turned to the body. Annabeth told him to focus on his breathing. He was already trying to, but he couldn't.

Distantly, sirens rang, and Percy's nerves almost backstroked out of his body. Ambulance sirens, Percy foggily realized. He went back to trying to think about his breathing, but his fast heartbeat was jumping all over the place.

"Hey, stop comparing everything. It's not what it looks like," Annabeth said softly. "He's going to make it."

The pool of blood was still careening through his mind's eye.

Another set of sirens picked up. Percy took a deep breath when the familiar blue snakes-entwined-around-a-staff symbol drove into view. Paramedics in scrubs clambered out with a stretcher, nodded to them, and silently went over to the body.

A tall woman, dressed in an ironed blouse, moved over. "Good e'ening, sirs," she said with a welcoming smile. She held up a calloused yet manicured hand to shake and then realized they were occupied with the stretcher. "Oh, I'm sorry," her thick Southern accent growing a little shaky. Her husband came to her side, still in a thick coat, and grabbed her hand. "Thank you," he murmured.

The paramedics just smiled stiffly and hunched around the body. Annabeth turned to the couple. When they first met them, standing at the edge of the scene was, they were even more distracted, and Percy saw Annabeth tuck a beige, familiar-looking card into the husband's pocket. Annabeth's expression was grave. "I'm sorry this happened."

"No, I can only thank you for coming, and for calling those kind gentlemen. I'm Serena Miller, and this is my husband Edward." The woman looked tired enough to fall over, but her voice was as even and smooth as butter.

Annabeth made the introductions and shook her head. "It was nothing. The police are on their way." The sirens were starting to ring inside Percy's mind, and he struggled to rebel against every instinct of him.

_What's the use?! _Percy felt like yelling. Here was an actual set of parents who seemed to care about their child, and he was stabbed by someone in the chest. At least at most of the funerals he went to there were no family members to make formal talk with.

Serena turned to Percy. "And thank you for coming with, sir. I'm so sorry you had to witness this." Her voice almost broke.

Percy stood there silently, and he could tell Annabeth was going to kick him or something to get him to talk when he finally muttered, "Neither of us could've done anything about it."

She blinked, slumping slightly when she heard that. Annabeth looked a lot closer to kicking him. Percy realized it was easier for Serena to be polite. Even if it wouldn't be, not for long, he should've let her move through the first stage of grief and deny the truth. But his irritability was kicking up, and he didn't want someone else to slowly coast through the steps and talk it all over with Annabeth. He wanted everyone else to mourn like he and Reyna once did together, only for a few brief moments, him holding in his tears until his face ached and she straightening first.

Annabeth finally cut in. "There was a lot of blood lost. But you found him early on. They're going to be able to revive him with some blood bags."

A specific squealing siren cut off, and heavy steps turned around the building. Thalia stormed across the hallway, her hand at her holster, equally intimidating girls in the silver-streaked uniforms running after her in a flock.

"What's going on?" She demanded. The paramedics straightened, carrying a young, pale, unnaturally pale boy on the stretcher, a mountain of gauze over his chest. He looked a little like Beckendorf, Percy realized. The father choked on a gasp.

The paramedic holding the left corner turned. "You know the scene in the movies where everyone runs a stretcher through the hospital? It's going to be that scene!" The parents shook themselves, but Thalia stilled everyone with a glare heavy with eyeliner. She planted her combat boots apart, like she was about to spring on someone if she had to.

"Go stuff your Hollywood fantasies somewhere else. We need to examine him, and everyone at the scene of the crime has to stay right here."

The head paramedic turned back. "Thalia, this boy is losing a ton of blood! We need to keep him alive first!"

"Well, you're going to mess up all the clues on him, Kayla!" Thalia snapped. "The first thing to do is stop the culprit from ever doing anything like this again!"

Kayla tossed her head at the team, and they staunchly carried the stretcher into the ambulance. Thalia gawked and gestured to the rest of the officers. They crowded around the back of the ambulance.

Annabeth shook her head. "Okay, I know you haven't dealt with live victims a lot before, but he does need a blood infusion right now. And from the way he's lying, he hasn't been touched and shouldn't have fingerprints."

"Annie, you watch too many crime shows," Thalia said, barely cooling down. "Search his pockets, and Tso can grab the autopsy report."

The parents gasped, and Thalia quickly blinked. "Sorry, I mean the medical sheet thing."

The officers tucked everything away in plastic bags. Kayla glared at Thalia before snapping the ambulance doors shut.

"Evergreen, Atlas, start canvassing. Knock on every neighbor's door, they all could've seen something." She turned to the parents, pulling out a glittery silver notepad from her belt. She grimaced at it but clicked a pen. "What enemies have your son made?"

The dad gulped as the mother struggled to say something nice and Southernly. "Wallie was a kind boy. I don't know anyone—"

"Who would try to hurt him," Thalia finished tiredly. "I noticed an interesting tattoo under his sleeve. Did you guys let him get it?"

The mom's brown eyes flashed. "No, I've never heard a word of it, officer."

Thalia pursed her lips. "Who does he spend time around?"

"He's always glued to his best friend, Andre Miller. He would probably know everything."

Thalia nodded. The other policewomen behind her closed their notepads at the same time. Thalia headed to her car. She opened the back door and then gestured impatiently at Percy and Annabeth.

"Your chariot awaits, my top witnesses."

"What?" Annabeth stammered.

"You heard me right. You guys were the only people on the street at this hour. Other than some weirdo wielding a bloody kitchen knife, so spill."

Annabeth sat next to Percy in the backseat and slowly closed the door. He tried to breathe again as Annabeth repeated, "We saw no one."

Thalia turned on the sirens, drowning out everything else, and they blazed to the station. Thalia's walkie-talkie crackled as they sped past a red light. "Lieutenant Grace, this is Santos. We've located Andre Miller at an old meth lab. We're taking him to the precinct."

"Well, this just gets more and more fun," Thalia said flatly.

(time skip)

The radio turned out to have a few interesting hosts. One guy liked to introduce crazy dishes and debate which ones were better.

"The black ear-shaped fungus is actually pretty chewy. It goes nicely with vinegar and some cucumber," the talk host with a squeaky voice informed them.

Beckendorf winced. "Ew."

"It's really just a mushroom."

Clarisse loved the car. It made patrolling a lot easier. But it was a pretty boring ride, so she quit the job after two tries and assigned Percy to be Beck's partner. They were supposed to drive off any intruders, but the rusted antique was so slow Percy doubted anyone would be scared. Maybe a very, very elderly granny.

Percy was always scared of sitting alone with Beckendorf, he admitted. He felt like at any moment, Beckendorf would stop being his nice, friendly self and scream at him for not keeping Silena alive. Everyone had run back except for him. As a hero, he should've actually done something. But Silena was pushed to the ground because she lunged for him. She was the real hero, because the police officers were so scared of this incident getting out, they released Percy's arms and hoofed it to their squad cars.

Beckendorf didn't seem to hate him one bit. But Percy kept waiting for it, and the anticipation was murdering him. They drove to a lot beside a Wendy's. Beckendorf squinted, but they didn't have night vision.

"Those guys look a little sketchy," he murmured. He turned on the blinker, which he wasn't supposed to according to the driver's manual, but it was less threatening than the headlights. The people lounging in the lot, now sporadically lit up with red flashes, weren't fixing on gang bandanas or jumping around with knives or anything. They were just sitting there.

Percy strained at rolling down his window, since he was closer to them. A terrible smell floated inside the car. They both winced this time.

"…as opposed to the baked Alaska, which uses the magical physics of insulating to keep the ice cream cold—," the radio droned when Beck switched it off.

"What is that?" Percy muttered. It felt familiar to him.

Beckendorf sighed. "Weed."

The memories fell through. The "bad" kids at his middle schools, though really Percy was also one, but didn't like hanging around the dumpsters and tracking cigarette butts around, sometimes would gave off that smell in the bathrooms or the backyard.

"Do we drive them off? They could've bought from another gang or something."

Beckendorf's moral compass clearly extended far beyond trying to figure out what Clarisse would think. "We should tell them to quit. They're too young. Their brains are still developing!" He jumped out of the car. Percy watched in shock. He had a tendency to avoid dangerous situations recently.

One guy looked up and smiled lazily, his teeth painted red in the blinker's flash. He held up something. Beck's strong body curled away from it. He snapped something. A few other guys looked up. Percy tensed. If they started fighting, he had to get involved. His loyalty was willing to win over his fear.

But they didn't move. The guy Beck was standing in front of shrugged. He lifted something to his mouth, and he breathed a plume of scarlet smoke. Beckendorf yelled loud enough for Percy to hear, "Don't come here again! Find your lives again!" His face burned determinedly, almost like he was angry before disappearing in darkness.

Beckendorf suddenly turned to the sky. His chest rose. Everyone sprawled around the lot looked unaffected, and one guy was shaking and pointing, like he was giggling. Beck's newly mahogany-colored muscles shuddered and shrank together. Percy heard the sigh inside his mind.

Beckendorf glanced at them one last time, and then he gently let himself back into the car.

Percy wasn't going to ask him if he was okay or not. He wasn't going to be able to improve the silence.

"Don't touch that stuff," Beckendorf said, making a U-turn down the empty street. He clicked off the blinker. "I don't want you to become one of them."

"Okay," Percy answered softly.

"Good." Beckendorf set his chin, and they headed back to everyone else.

(time skip)

Thalia's car braked to a stop before a short, squat building that shone metallically in the cloudy morning. A few other cars had already gotten there. She regretfully switched off the sirens, and Percy's head took a few hours to stop pulsating.

"Home sweet home," she breathed in the sudden silence. Thalia leaned back against her seat. "Welcome to the 17th Precinct."

The precinct looked like it could be folded down and taken away any second. It didn't have a fancy lobby or anything. Just smooth silver walls and ivory-colored curtains that somehow made it cool and dark. Percy looked down and saw the floor was a sea of animal pelts. He swallowed, wondering how Grover would feel. But Thalia waved a hand as she tromped on with her combat boots. "We only hunt nuisances. Most of these are ancient, when Captain Artemis roamed the wilds." They stopped at a long table, carved out of soft wood. A few detectives were sitting around the pelt-coated chairs, typing furiously at their computers or pursuing stacks of files. The only other door seemed to be a holding cell, from the sounds of things clanging against prison bars. A woman lifted her chin at the head of the table. Her chair had a pair of stag antlers and wolf fur draped down the intricately-carved birch seat. Her dark, gray-streaked hair was pulled away from her face, and she had a pair of liquid mercury pupils.

"Lieutenant Grace," she acknowledged with a nod.

Thalia was visibly trembling, and she bit away her grin. "Captain."

She didn't seem to blink. Her eyes were almost luminous. "Call me Artemis," she said with her head inclined. "But at least you don't say mistress like Zoë did."

"Yes, Artemis," Thalia said, her eyes flashing brightly.

Detective Santos stumbled inside the precinct, her boots slipping slightly on some reptilian skin. Andre, a short boy with a half-lost, half-impudent expression followed behind, his eyes huge. "What is this place?" he breathed.

"The 17th Precinct," Santos said with a sigh. "Lieutenant Grace, permission to take him into the back building?"

"No way," Thalia said, rubbing her hands together. "I'm coming."

Detective Evergreen, who had green-tinted hair and skin like bark raised her green eyebrows at them. "I guess I'm in charge of witnesses." She pointed at a few chairs and turned one towards them. She pulled out her own sparkly notepad from her breast pocket. "I'm Pine. What did you guys see?"

"No one," Annabeth answered with a sigh.

She nodded. "Okay, then anything? Every single detail."

Annabeth thought about it for a moment. "Do you guys have a photograph already?"

"Yeah, but maybe a small detail stood out, or got changed. I need you guys to resketch one for me."

"Where did Wallie live?" Percy asked.

Pine flipped through her notes. "Fifth floor. First apartment on the left."

Percy tried to think back. "There was a room with peach-shaped lamps, and a flowery curtain."

"I think someone was playing 'It's a Wonderful Life,'" Annabeth said, drumming her fingers on the table.

"You guys hear anything?" Pine said, her pen unmoving and her eyebrows making a furrow in her forehead.

"Actually," Percy started. "A car engine. It was a Buick driving past." That was becoming clear in his mind. He'd picked up a strange knack of recognizing most cars a while ago.

"License plate?" Pine's dark brown eyes looked on with interest.

"West Virginia," Annabeth answered. "I think the license number was 3YM5UZ."

"Atlas!" Pine called across the table. A girl with dark streaks in her pale brown hair nodded and furiously typed into her computer.

Detective Tso, since she had a folder from New York Presbyterian, leaned over. "And when did the car drive past?"

"Um, before we found the boy."

Tso inclined her head like, _of course. _"What about the parent's car?"

"Uh, it was in the alley. A Volkswagen Beetle."

Pine raked a hand through her hair. "And you didn't hear it?"

Annabeth looked at Percy, bewildered. "No."

Tso turned to her file. Pine fiddled with her notepad. On the top, white puffy letters spelled out, "Artemis' Hunters."

Pine noticed Percy's gaze on the words. "Captain Artemis likes mythology, it's pretty self-explanatory. So did Ex-Lieutenant Nightshade. The Hunters were a group of celibate women that killed monsters. It's pretty accurate."

She went to her newest page again. "Maybe you just didn't hear it. Was that all you noticed?"

Percy sighed. "I was throwing up. We probably got distracted."

That attracted a lot of gazes. Pine was piqued now. "Well, maybe the intruder knew you were witnesses. Did you guys eat anything right before heading down that street?"

"Yeah, breakfast." Annabeth explained her menu. "Everything's fresh from a local vendor, I washed it all, and I grew the cherry tomatoes myself. He didn't touch as much as me." They met each other's gaze. Annabeth would hold onto patient confidentiality, and he certainly didn't want to be saying he was in heroin withdrawal. It wasn't exactly a crime to use, but legality was never that simple, and he definitely wasn't squeaky-clean in terms of possession, trafficking, and selling another drugs. It wasn't like witness protection could help him forever, if that was even extended, and Percy was pretty much kept in the dark about everything that happened. Chris told him he would go to prison and that would be it.

"Then did you guys get bottled water, samples of food, anything?"

"No." Percy cleared his throat. "My stomach has just been weak recently. And, um, maybe it was a nervous attack."

Someone with cat's-eye glasses and framed pictures of encouraging slogans straightened. Maybe she was the precinct's resident psychiatrist. Percy wondered if it was a good thing he was so popular with them.

Pine leaned back. "Okay. Was it anything about the car? Something you recognized?"

"No. I think it was just because, uh, it was a car."

Pine clicked her pen a few times without writing anything. "Sorry for prying. Anything specific about it?"

Annabeth glanced up. "Oh, right, their air freshener was shaped like a burrito."

"That's a lot of random details," Artemis spoke up. "Are you seeing any patterns, Evergreen?"

Pine looked like she was sweating on the spot. "Sorry, no, Captain."

"Any theories?" Artemis wasn't blinking again.

"Um, well, there were tire tracks in the alley…maybe the culprit drove in while our witnesses were, em, distracted and turned out."

Detective Atlas looked up. "Guys, the car belongs to a Charles Sherman. No connection to Wallie." She let that settle in. "But I can compare the tire tracks." Artemis let her leave with her elaborate computer set-up, and then Thalia came in the front entrance.

She plopped down on the table, and Percy could only stow his legs away and hope her swinging boots wouldn't crush bones. "This case took a small turn. Our dearest Wallie, short for Warren like Warren Buffett, and Andre are part of a gang." She locked eyes with Annabeth for a moment. "A tiny one, probably just a subset of the real deal. That's where his weird tattoo comes from. It's called Ice Clan," she said with an eye roll. "But's it's still a drug cartel for high school dropouts. He hasn't figured it out yet, but they've been unwilling carriers multiple times. Anyway, two weeks ago the Boss Man told them to bring a small tube somewhere. Wallie said no, and he was shaping up to a pretty big coward in the Clan. He also messed up in a fight previously. Andre took it there. Narcotics are heading towards the location, but they probably moved somewhere. It sounds like a new strain," she said gravely.

"Nice job, Grace," Artemis said.

Thalia almost blushed. She looked down. "He's only a teenager." She coughed into her fist. "He named a few suspects, but honestly he was kept in the dark about most things. We'll need a full-blown investigation into the Ice Clan."

Tso straightened. "Okay, just because he's useless, Ice Boss or whatever would have Wallie killed? They don't sound serious enough to send a warning."

Santos came in after them. She waved her phone around. "Atlas sent me Wallie's basic genealogy, and finding addresses was easy enough. Boss Man wanted them to visit a supermarket next to his aunt's place."

"His family is clean," Tso said, pointing to the rest of the paperwork she was looking at. "So he's the weak link?"

Thalia cocked her head. "No, he showed his loyalty in the stupid initiation ritual. You know, telling a freshie that the tattoo needle wouldn't hurt, taking his money, whatever. It wouldn't be Boss Man interested in him." She sighed. "Maybe we need to go through the suspects."

Thalia jutted her chin at the woman with the cat-eye glasses, who mock-saluted. "Tell Andre he's not snitching, please, and comfort him somehow." As she passed Annabeth, they looked each other up and down, and the precinct's therapist moved on.

"Lieutenant, permission to report from the, er, report?" Tso stood up at Thalia's nod. "Wallie's injury was done by a right-handed, older killer. I mean culprit. From the way he was handled, he probably didn't catch a glimpse of whoever it was. Wallie got all the blood he needs, but he's still unconscious. The doctors won't force him to wake up until later."

"What do you mean by older?" Thalia sat stiffly.

Tso sighed. "Mid-thirties, probably. Not a high school dropout."

(time skip)

A low scream escaped Percy as a blade sliced into his leg. He kicked and jabbed at skin in front of him. Fighting made him feel alive. He no longer had to stay in one place, and everything that was coming at him he could process and react to.

Unless someone came from below, though.

Percy dodged as a beer bottle was thrown, pushing the strangers before him closer to the landing sight. One slashed at him angrily, but Percy sidestepped his blade and felt something graze his shoulder. He sprang, about to jab, when he felt his ascent stoppered in mid-air, like always. Reyna was holding the tip of his knife, her expression almost bored. He had never injured her before. Reyna pulled the edge of her coat from Percy's shoulder. She didn't apologize.

"Your cheek is bleeding." She elbowed someone in the gut behind him.

Percy turned to fight off someone holding a pipe and yelling battle cries. "I know," he responded. "It's fine."

Reyna's knife disarmed the other guy of his pipe in a second. He scrammed, his last battle cry only halfway yelled. "It looks fine."

"Head wounds bleed a lot, you know," Lee Fletcher helpfully informed them.

Reyna muttered something darkly under her breath. "Sorry for noticing," she said sarcastically, slamming the butt of her knife into a head.

Percy saw a dark, shaggy head hover in the crowd and thought it was Nico. He forged his way over, randomly swinging at anyone in his way. His knife smacked something hard and hissed as it slid along the edge. Percy looked up at a pale, blindingly blond scarecrow. He smirked. "Look, it's little Jackson, out from Ramírez-Arellano's wing. Hey, maybe some other time you could introduce her to me?"

He was about to mutter, "not even in your dreams," when a group of muscular hitmen-looking teenagers surrounded him. Octavian grinned as he traced a finger down his sword. Because that was just the prop sword. The hitmen ascended on Percy, and suddenly his switchblade seemed a little useless.

Percy punched as hard as he could, trying to dive out between someone's legs. A taste of iron crawled up his throat as bigger fists collided against him, his vessels erupting, but maybe he was biting down on something. The sudden rush of pain made it too exhausting for him to scream.

Percy felt himself getting shoved. He tried not to fall over, using someone's rock-hard shoulder as support for a few seconds, because curling up on the ground was not exactly the best position for him to be in. But it turned out Beckendorf was swinging around with his scary arsenal of tools, and he stood between and lobbed a hammer at the rock-hard shoulder guy.

"Why the heck did you get here?" Beck hissed.

"Nico's over there! He's supposed to be protected!" Percy uselessly punched at someone's abs.

"Do you need a manual to tell you to keep out of the fighting? Stay on the fringes!" Beckendorf shoved a row of hitmen to their knees and disarmed the scarily long knife of another.

"I didn't want to get caught up. I'm just used to being in the fight."

"You're crazy, fool!" Beckendorf yelled, slamming into another one of Percy's attackers. "Nico's not even in here, he's disappeared into the shadows again!"

"Okay, sorry I'm blind," he said lowly, slashing at someone's arm in the way.

Reyna slipped in at some point, disarming the hitmen one by one. Beckendorf swung his axe in a wide circle, and everyone backed away. Octavian was about to leer something vulgar, Percy could see it in his eyes, but Reyna pointed her knife near his throat and he quickly ran off.

"These fights are so stupid. So what if Octavian and the other guys crossed the road? It's not like we're losing land to tax or something!" Reyna pushed a strand of hair from her forehead.

Beckendorf sank to the ground. They were in the middle of the street, but he didn't seem to mind the dusty cement. He stretched out his arms, and Percy noticed something on the back of his shirt. A slow-spreading stain.

"You were cut," he exclaimed.

Beck felt around the wound. He shrugged. "Yeah."

Reyna knelt besides him. "What can we do about it?"

"I can wait until we see Lee again."

"Maybe we should staunch the flow of blood," Bianca quietly suggested, coming to their side. "That's a lot."

"I'm fine," Beckendorf said firmly.

Percy pursed his lips. "You could get infected. Who knows if those swords were ever cleaned?"

"No one cleans their swords before a fight," Beck said with a dry laugh. He looked up. There was something dark in his eyes. "It's a nice sunset. You know, I always wanted to watch the sunset from the top of the Empire State Building."

"You should get your wound wrapped up," Reyna said firmly.

"The sunset will be gone." He stood up and crossed the street to the lot where his car was parked. "Who's coming?" He yelled over.

Percy swallowed. Ever since the last time they were alone in the car, he was a bit on edge. He didn't expect to see a raw side of Beck, ever, and had no idea how to deal with it for the second time. Everything was bloody and chaotic, and he was feeling more and more unsure of himself. Percy didn't think Beckendorf would want company from the person who aided in his girlfriend's murder. He stepped away.

"You need to get that checked!" Bianca told him faintly.

"Fine!" Beck snapped, his voice taunt. He stabbed a screwdriver under the wheel and peeled off in a dust storm of exhaust.

They didn't hear the sounds of the crash. Only the sirens. It took them a long time to find him, piled in the morgue of the nearest hospital.

His wound was bound up with cotton, probably before the doctors discovered he didn't have insurance.

(time skip)

Percy and Annabeth were riding away in the cop car, because everyone insisted. Thalia drove and danced along to Green Day while Santos halfheartedly repeated some of the lyrics.

They would drop Percy off at Grover's place, and Annabeth at Half-Blood Hill. Percy glanced over at her, wondering what she would be doing there. She leaned her head against the window, looking a little melancholy and wistful. Percy blinked. He didn't realize maybe Annabeth didn't like sirens either.

But that would just be even more ironic.

The case was saddening. Percy didn't like where it was going. Tso didn't call yet, but Wallie wasn't awake. All Percy could remember of him was he lying there, half of his face in the pool of blood. His eyes were clear and flat. Percy felt his stomach heave a little, but it was empty.

They came onto Grover's street. Annabeth gave him a small smile. And then Grover busted out of his building's door, yelling with the radio, "_I'm feeling like a dog in heat, barred indoors from the summer street! I locked the door to my own cell and lost the key!_"

Thalia's jaw dropped. Santos stopped mumbling along.

"You know 'Longview' by heart?" Thalia screeched.

While Thalia and Grover started sharing concert experiences, Annabeth leaned back into the seat and sighed. "I'm sorry this happened. I know it wasn't fun."

"Yeah, well, if you caused it, you should be sorry. But you didn't." He offered her a smirk.

Annabeth mouth opened slightly before she twitched it into a smile. "Okay, stealing my snark?"

He shrugged. "I don't want a setback."

"Me neither."

"So here's to not having one." He realized they didn't have anything to drink. He pulled out his reusable water bottles. Annabeth laughed and clinked them together.

She sipped, and then she quickly straightened. How she did that without choking Percy didn't know. "I almost forgot!" She reached into her bag. Inside was a smaller brown paper bag, with a few grease splotches.

Percy glanced inside and there was a slightly squashed muffin, smelling like brown sugar and nuts. He took it out, and in the light it was blue. She even found blue chocolate chips. Percy's face crumpled slightly. He still was sad, from the day, and the fact that this was something his mother would normally present to him, but also so happy. Percy took a huge bite. His eyebrows raised.

"That's lemony," he said with his mouth full.

She grinned. "Well, lemon peels keep brown sugar from clumping, so I had a few in my jar for a while."

"It's good!" he told her.

Annabeth smirked a little. "I'm surprised. It's also really healthy."

Percy didn't want to believe her and took another bite.

Grover was at his window now. "Dude, why are you pigging out right now? Juniper's got a homemade pizza in the oven and we're bingeing the Good Doctor today!"

He sadly stuck it back into the paper bag and waved to Annabeth. "I'll see you…tomorrow? I kind of lost track."

She smiled. "Well, we kind of went off schedule, but yeah, tomorrow's fine."

Percy and Grover went up the stairs, Percy panting and trying to not crumple his bag, but they finally made it up there. Juniper warmly welcomed them and opened the door to the smell of bubbling mozzarella and tomato sauce, and they all crammed together on Grover's couch. There was an ad for men's footwear, but something sparked inside his mind.

He jumped up and called Annabeth. He barely had any idea of what he was going to say as it dialed her. Finally she asked, "What happened?"

He blurted out, "Can you connect Thalia to this call?"

"We're in the same car," she reminded him.

"Oh. Right." He ran a hand through his hair. "Am I on speaker?"

"No."

He winced at this awkwardness. "Can you put me on speaker?"

Something clicked. "Out with it, Jackson!" Thalia said. "You have good taste in friends, by the way."

"Um, okay." He paused. "So, I remembered something. I'm not sure if it really means anything." He took a deep breath. "I saw an Astros shirt. There was an H though, um, I think it's Houston Astros?" He sort of knew a lot of team names, but only because his friends liked betting. He wasn't sure about much else. "A basketball team?"

"Baseball," Santos corrected.

"It was up there before I, um, threw up. And then it wasn't."

"And we heard the scream," Annabeth finished.

Santos suddenly made an excited noise. There was a bit of scuffling. "Don't touch my dashboard!" "Look, I need to use my laptop." "Don't you have a lap?" "Stop swerving, Thalia!"

There was another dialing tone. "Santos?" Atlas' voice suddenly traveled to Percy, but through another phone. Santos' cool tone was speeding up eagerly. "Run 'Houston Astros' through your matching scheme! NYPD's sucks. No offense. I seem to remember something about Wallie's past. An adult, a summer camp counselor? I'm looking."

There was a yell. "Oh jeez, Santos, you're hurting my ear," Thalia muttered.

"I found it!" Santos shrieked. "It's a guard at juvie. He has the Astros' 'H' on his belt buckle!"

Atlas distantly murmured, "Jonathon Sherman. Ex-resident at the Dandelion Neighborhood in Houston. Proud face of the SpeedFit X gym. He went to therapy once, his file labeled him as "violent and unstable" and he quit his sessions without making a deposit. Jersey Juvenile Attitude Retention Center fired him a month ago so I'm sure we can grab some witnesses there about how he treated Wallie there. I'm sending you the address he put on his job form, Lieutenant."

Santos whooped. Atlas was typing up a storm two phones away. Thalia's phone dinged and she gunned the engine. "Sorry Annie, I guess we have to pay this guy a visit first."

"It's so obvious! The burrito is because he's a Houstonian! His dad owns the car, right?" Santos laughed. "What was his grand plan?"

"Well, I'm guessing he was driving over, headed up to Wallie's room, and saw he wasn't there," Annabeth said.

Atlas quickly cut in. "Yeah, security tapes showed Wallie uses the back door to come home from school, and he left his backpack on the fire escape that day."

"Then Jonathan Sherman must've spotted him and ran down. The parents were almost arriving, so he must've driven down another alley. Those are literally like mazes. "

Thalia stopped honking and swearing at all the cars actually following traffic rules and said, "Oh right, someone checked this out for me. The insulation on the back of the wall was really good, so you guys actually didn't hear anything. Wallie's mom stepped out from behind it to scream."

"Santos! Find anything about the Sunshine Thrift Store?" Atlas yelled over the sirens and yelling and Thalia's singing. Percy was wincing now and Grover and Juniper were no longer pretending to not listen in.

Santos drummed at her own keyboard. "Oh, I think Andre mentioned something about it. He got his packages there. Wait, I'm looking up a photo of it—there's an apartment above it. I bet it's Boss Man's residence."

"Well, Sherman has been heading there a lot recently. Call Myrtle from Narcotics. You guys should hit the shop next."

"Oh, I'm planning to," Thalia said, temporarily cutting off her terrible singing. "Annie, you're going to have to make some room in the back."

(time skip)

Percy drove an old Prius with suspicious dents in the hood. It creaked every inch it moved and threatened to give up. He was dutifully heading to a party, his pockets ready to fill with money. He avoided looking at the passenger seat, still with the imprint of another person on it, and the spiderweb of cracks in the window, and the one small, perfectly round hole in the middle. He ignored looking at the radio, which was gathering dust. There was nothing there to remind him of Silena, but it was still a car of ghosts.

Percy got out, met with the mysterious baseball cap-wearing source who told him where the baggies were hidden. Percy stuffed as much as he could grab within into his coat, even though it was getting warm. He made his rounds, ran the bills between his fingers, folded them into his pocket. Because that was it, the money. He didn't really see people anymore, beyond whether they looked like they wanted a high or not. He saw some lines of the white powder getting laid out with trembling fingers, heard sobs as someone grabbed a bag, but it didn't bother him. He couldn't find Chris, so he had to hunt out the baseball cap-guy again and pass him the money. All the faces were blurring, running together like watercolor. Percy decided to leave. He wanted to wake up one morning without a hangover, and there was nothing fun about this party. About any party.

A few people were in the abandoned garden, leaning against the trellises, lying in the scraggly cabbage up and gazing at the sky, or smiling in a way Percy couldn't exactly put his finger on.

Someone leaning against the broken wicker fence grinned and gestured for him to come over. Percy walked up to the lumpy plot of trash. "Hey, how are you?" She asked with an easy smile. It stunned him, how she could just smile like that.

"I'm okay," he answered automatically. She raised a perfect eyebrow. "That's nice." She held up a needle to the streetlight. "Do you want to try?"

A tangled ball of yarn, memories and feelings he would never be able to pick apart, rolled into his consciousness. There was no one left to berate him, to stay for. He wanted to forget everything. He wanted to disappear.

He slipped past the sweetly rotting squash, a few dead vines. Percy sat down and took the needle. It felt strange and smooth in his hand. She pointed out a vein for him. He stared into the clouded sky. The needle pinched his skin a little when it slid inside, and then the pain faded.

**A few fun facts: Annabeth's address: Building 557, Apartment 803 is all based on the number of letters in her and Percy's names. I have no idea where the three came from (I came up with that part last week), probably cabin 3? Also, the Hunters' precinct is the 17th because the 17th Amendment gave women the right to vote! Yay! (I learned that from Taylor Swift's "The Man" music video Easter eggs, not from my own vast store of knowledge) I know Artemis' Hunters don't exactly stand for feminism because they don't see men as equal AT ALL but I'm just going to play into that cliché for naming purposes. Pine Evergreen is obviously supposed to be a nymph. Santos and Tso are just my OC mortals.**

**Review Replies:**

**SovereignAstra: To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what you mean. But if you're agreeing about the injustice of how a not-white person will always be considered to be breaking the law, I know! It's not a topic I have much personal experience to go on about, and there's a lot of political stuff happening right now, and well that chapter and line wasn't exactly the best place to rant about this stuff, but it definitely needs to be talked about. Thank you for noticing it and pointing it out, I hoped someone would.**

**MrGilborg: Ah your review was so nice! I probably drafted a 500 word answer but I'm just going to cut it down since I'm a little tired. Thank you for calling my fillers not boring thought I definitely thought they kind of were… I just didn't want to throw a ton of sad curveballs at you guys so there were some fillers with minor development. That's how life realistically goes anyway, at least for me. I would like you to think I'm just playing by ear, perhaps that's realism (?) but probably not. I didn't have a better answer when I was more awake. But yeah, I actually do have a plot. Surprise, surprise. I plan on capping this at 30 chapters, and I do have a pretty nice ending written in stone. Kind of. I originally did write kind of aimlessly but now I have something in mind for every chapter. Thank you so much about the depth here! That was literally my biggest goal for this and the thing I would dream about at night. Seriously. Thank you! I did check out Fangirl Shrieks, their work is awesome and has no connection to me whatsoever. Seriously, it's amazing. About Annabeth, well, hm. I'm going to give a few spoilers since I'm nice like that. Yeah, she is complicated, and that was kind of a surprise for me. I know I sound crazy right now, but at start, I wanted her to be this perfect, kind, giving genius person or whatever, but it didn't really fit with my plot and was weird to write. But I do have an actual reason for hiding most of her bad moments, other than laziness and lack of forethought. They're there, I've given a few hints and well you can guess, but she does spend time alone so from Percy's POV you won't know. She takes a lot of pride in being able to help people, so she's not going to expose her problems in change that's endangered. Like, Percy is not very emotionally well, and she's going to be worried if he can carry her issues. And there's obviously that pride of wanting to look good in front of her patients. It is a bit cliched, but they will bond over her side of life too because some clichés have meaning to them. Their relationship does have a longer way to go. Thank you for thinking so deeply about this, I love feedback and I'll take all of it. (Now that I'm going back, this is 400 words! Wow.)**

**Nooo30pony: I laughed a long time at that. Totally did not come to mind, but okay I guess? Thanks for sending that anyway, it was funny.**

**BlackholesA: Thank you for your review! I love reading that, well, I have readers. I actually did go back and edit some small things, so your experience is probably not entirely the same actually, but it's not really a big deal. Anyway, thanks! It's not really pressure from reviews, well obviously people ask for Percabeth but this was a totally new thing for me and I wanted to share what I learned. And an explanation for the curious. It was so encouraging and nice for you to write that!**

**Guest: I actually saw both, so now worries. Thank you! You actually got me to read up on Fangirl Shrieks, since you're the second person to mention them here, and I absolutely don't think this is comparable. Just no. I'm not planning to begot romance entirely…heh I'm a big romantic at heart really but I'm trying to figure out what's going on just waiting for the right time ****for a solid, healthy relationship they would both logically like to be a part of. Your review was actually super comforting, I guess some part of me was worried because I didn't get the same kind of crazy-fangirling reviews as before, and this just feels so unnatural compared to what I normally write. But you all have been really nice, the pressure would be coming from myself at most. I probably will find them, and it was an honor to hear that you think so! Thank you!**


	17. Chapter 17

**I'm free now! From exams! If you guys are wondering why what was my possibly longest chapter yet was published during exams, well, you'll just have to keep wondering. But now I have time to write a ton more and overthink things and write a million drafts of stuff.**

**I've been thinking about this a lot more recently, and well, I'm proud of what I've written so far, but I know I can go a lot further with myself and with my characters. And also I'm realizing I barely proofread my work. You guys should be seeing less of that. Heh. **

**Enjoy!**

"Why are we doing this?" Annabeth gasped, jumping from foot to foot.

Percy raised a metal pipe into the air victoriously. "Because you allowed me to spend the first hour of our session swimming."

Annabeth's breaths were coming out in small clouds. Goosebumps prickled up all over her pale, impossible, unrelenting tan. "You know, you can get endorphins by exercising in a gym. A warm one," she managed through her chattering teeth.

She'd been pretty supportive of their little field trip up until a few minutes ago. They had a few minutes of conversation in Half-Blood Hill, crossed through the mostly-empty streets in Annabeth's car, and since they were there at a more reasonable hour, smiled sunnily at the Hispanic guard playing Candy Crush on his phone when he opened chain-link door without looking up.

The place was exactly like what Percy remembered: an urban swimming pool with trash littered everywhere, cracks wide enough to roll a dead body into, graffiti all across the pool. There was just one problem: the water had froze over, and little specks of leaves, soda cans, and cigarette ashes were immortalized for all to see. And the skies suddenly opened up and started snowing.

Annabeth had laughed at it and headed into the rundown shack labeled as "the cabana" with a Sharpie. It was probably out of tradition, or the fact that he didn't have any new clothes, but she emerged in the same skimpy orange polyester bikini they'd gotten at the "store," also known as the lost and found locker in the guardhouse.

Every single time, Percy forced himself to swallow and look away before he could take in too much of her curves and the little flakes dropping onto her shoulders. She had grandly offered him the shack, and when he came out in his too-baggy shorts, they pondered what to do with the pool.

After the moments where their blood began expanding and moving slower and slower in their veins, and when Annabeth was questioning his decisions, and they were getting lightly showered in snow, he finally found the perfect tool.

Percy bent over at the edge of the pool. He raised an arm, and he felt everything lurch because it was so cold, but he smiled wildly and smashed the pipe into the ice. It splintered, barely exposing a sliver of water, but Annabeth joined him in breaking up as much of the ice as possible. The water shimmered darkly, looming with terrible treasures. A few delicate flakes of snow dusted it. Without thinking, Percy dove inside.

It was enough cause for him to want to yell a million swears. His biology teacher (well, one of them at least) told him fish stayed alive under water because the ice kept it warm or something, and maybe he didn't classify as a fish, but it was only remotely less freezing.

Still, he loved it. It was pressing through his pores, pulling him awake, dousing the ever-burning agony and hurt and worry.

And then a glowing blond cloud floated past him, like jellyfish tendrils, and arcing for the surface, and he felt chlorinated water seep inside his mouth as he smiled. When Annabeth bobbed back in, he gave her a second to exchange grins, and surged ahead. Annabeth's annoyed sputter smashed against his ears, because another thing he remembered from school: sound traveled faster in water than air. He may not have been able to outrun her for long, but she couldn't even compete with his swimming.

They had too much stamina. They would have swam the whole day, but hypothermia was almost as fast as Percy. They were only there for an hour and jumped out, shuddering and shrieking a little from the cold, but also from irritational joy, blinking from the snow, and ran straight through the chain-link gate as the guard's phone announced he was on level 355, and leaped into the Toyota.

Annabeth had laid out towels in the backseat, and they fought to grab one and cover themselves like there was no tomorrow. They were practically on top of each other, and he kept skimming her arms and stomach and a lot of other places as he reached for the rest of his towel, but he wasn't even thinking about that. Eventually, he was pushed, or simply rolled over, onto the floor of the car, but his chest (when did his torso get so long?) was wrapped up and he had his legs snugly tucked inside the bundle. It sounded creepy, but it was nice to have his back pressed against the driver's seat and stare at the water droplets trickling down the seat. Annabeth sat up, toweling the damp strands of her hair with one side and holding the rest of the cloth up to her throat. She glanced down and blushed. "Sorry for shoving you."

"It's fine," he murmured, wondering if he was feeling sleepy because of frostbite. He really should stop reading waiting room pamphlets titled "Symptoms You Have When…". Annabeth grinned and awkwardly stepped over him, edging into the front seat. She turned on the ignition and the heater, then all thoughts melted away. He scrunched down on the carpet so he was lying below the backseat heater vents. He felt the snow in his hair melt onto his scalp.

"Hey, I haven't washed that carpet in a month," Annabeth gently chastised. "Why don't you change first?"

He sadly abandoned his towel to pull on his sweater and many coats, which Annabeth reminded him to grab in their mad dash, and then maneuvered himself to the front seats without scuffing the cupholder too hard. It only got more awkward when he had to wait for Annabeth to change, but finally she climbed back in her big turtlenecked gray hoodie, clipping her seatbelt.

"Now you've got your swim. So you owe me a morning of fessing up to your feelings."

Percy wanted to groan. He knew what kind of feelings she was referring to, but still. He would have to add utterly ignoring how he felt about her to the list of things he was trying not to think about recently, because they just kept popping up. "I didn't know you were so into deals."

"Well, I am talking to a dealer," she teased, and Percy did groan.

They parked, settled down in the office, Annabeth tossed a bundle of pine tree twigs and old paper into the fireplace. And then Lou Ellen walked in with a small cupcake crowned in sparklers and candles.

Percy had been counting down. Each number was like a dent in his spine. He knew it had been seven days when he committed to sobriety. But he didn't exactly realize it was a week.

Percy raised his eyebrow, the lights blurring together. "What?"

"I made the candle myself!" Annabeth grinned at the sloppy blue "1 Week." The rest looked like emergency store-bought ones. "Come on, it's a worthy cause for celebration."

The frosting was a little sloppy, like someone did it themselves with a spoon, and there was a little burnt batter that spilled out of the paper wrapper. It looked sugary sweet and a little unappetizing. But his mood dimmed, unlike the lights. He didn't want a reminder of what he went through last week, that it was supposed to be a good thing, that he would have to face it for the rest of his life. Even Lou Ellen was still standing there and waiting excitedly.

"Thank you. Sorry, I'm not very hungry right now, but I'll definitely eat it."

Annabeth nodded. She didn't look crushed, for her part. Lou Ellen raised both of her eyebrows before disappearing. "Well, blow out everything before it burns something."

Of course Percy was reminded of Leo, and a little happy, bitter twinge rose in his throat. He puffed at the sparklers. "It looks nice."

Annabeth laughed. "I thought I knew everything there was to know about baking, but there's too much stuff that can go wrong for anyone to cover. Calypso offered, but she's too traditional to make blue velvet." She offered him a little paper cupcake holder in the familiar recycled beige material.

Percy had to smile. He drew his mug closer, from the new collection. Written inside was a "k." Percy took a moment to spell it out. "Jusk?"

Annabeth grinned as she handed him the saltshaker. "No, you guessed the first word was just, so we're moving on now. It's kind of a long phrase."

He had a few guesses, but he just sipped the coffee. It felt too warm.

Annabeth cleared her throat. "Thalia called. The guard confessed, and Wallie woke up. Just for a little while."

"That's nice. For the record, I'm not going on another run."

Annabeth made a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh. "You know what, I'm not going to argue with that. But you do need to boost your endorphins."

"So we're going to have to go swimming again."

She grinned. "Yes. Maybe when it thaws. But it's your turn now. What's wrong?"

He sighed. "My life."

She raised her eyebrows. "There are some good nihilistic jokes, and some bad ones. I'm going to need you to be more specific."

It was like the Wheel of Fortune. Every day, he was wondering which one the spinner would stop at. His happiness was fading the further he got from water. "I'm cold, I have so many goosebumps. I can't breathe evenly because my heartbeat is so fast. I still throw up. Last night, it was—" He stopped. He didn't want Annabeth to suspect he was on psychedelics, and he didn't want to talk about Beck either. "I didn't want to wake up Grover or anyone, so I tucked the key in Harvey's hand and locked myself in the bathroom." He rested his icy forehead on the table. "It was gross. I didn't sleep, and everyone knows something's up with me. The last thing I need is for my roommates to notice me." He'd been having even more flashbacks that night, some of Beck, some of his mother. Nothing he wanted to mention.

Annabeth nodded. "How did Harvey react?"

"He didn't know what the key was for, because I didn't make any sounds inside the bathroom. It was only when Duke started banging on the door and cursing did he realize, and everyone thought it was his fault. I didn't meet his eyes, but I took the key from the hole. They're probably giving him a hard time for even spending time with me. It was so stupid of me, I just didn't know what to do." He drained his coffee.

She sighed. "There's nothing right or wrong with that. You stopped yourself, and I'm thankful for that. I want you to know, it may not be fun for Grover to wake up at night. Maybe he'll even wonder why you guys are friends. But he is your friend, and you're his, and his irritation from being woken up is going to be less than his concern for you. And Percy, it is my job to make sure you are okay. Even if I mind, and I don't, you need to let me do it."

He nodded. "I know all of that, but I wanted to be alone." His addiction had messed up all of his relationships. Maybe it led to a few new ones, but he didn't want to face someone who could've been happier with him. "And maybe I wanted to stop escaping from Harvey." He looked away from Annabeth, out of her window. "I know it just takes courage, all of that. I know he probably won't judge me. But there are no consequences, none that bother me. He doesn't pry, and maybe he'll always be curious, but he can be the last person of my life that doesn't see the most broken part of me. Because I can exist as a better person to him at least, just not in real life, and that's not something I can just carry into the rest of my actions because I need to get over this first and I don't think I'll ever stop being too tired to do so." He dropped his eyes onto the table, the ring his mug was making.

"Percy," Annabeth murmured, and the way she spoke that always shook him, because it was concerned, expectant, like she cared more about him than she realized and that he would always, always respond to. He glanced up. Her eyes were shimmering and slipping and unwavering. "You don't have to take that journey. You don't have to tell him. The alternative isn't going to be much better than reality. But it still is better. Living a lie with someone, it's nice, but only sometimes. You can smile in one breath and choke in the other." She paused. "And it looks really bad and it's not going to—," Annabeth abruptly broke off. "Sorry, I didn't really have enough coffee this morning," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She lifted a cloudy gray mug off the rack and took a moment to fill it.

"I did mean it, though. I'm sure you know this already, but you haven't faced it just yet with him. You're going to feel guilty, and feel that a lot more than those happy moments. Maybe the lie will stay intact forever. But your relationship will become so, so fake, not one you want to be in anymore. And they'll know something's wrong, and let you take your time, but you're just taking too much, and their end of the fake relationship is going to fade more and more." She poured some cream into her cup before sticking it back into the fridge. "The same goes for getting better. You can stay stuck, in purgatory, for as long as you want. We can have the same conversations every time, and your friends will remain an easy, comfortable relationship with you, and you're going to have a lot of downs until they all seem the same, and you're kind of forgetting what 'better' should look like. It's going to be painful, but not as painful when you're letting everyone down instead of just yourself because you chose to have other people in your life when you just can't be strong enough. And it's not going to hurt as much when you're trying to find hope again, because you didn't give it up completely."

"You know, you're supposed to be painting it in a better light." Percy was resting his chin on his hand, too tired to straighten, but he still couldn't look away. "Like something I'd want."

"I think that part, we have to figure out for ourselves. And maybe you've already did, and you forgot it, but I have no doubt you'll find it again."

"Annabeth," he whispered, breaking their eye-lock. "Some people are addicted because of me."

"I know."

"I have no control over their choices, but I could've done something. I'm not where I am because of myself." Tears and his newfound fear of crying were both choking up his throat. "No one can deny it was wrong."

"You can't do anything. You'll have to forgive yourself."

He breathed out a ragged sigh. "I can't. Even if I wanted to. The high is over. Minimum wage at the grocery can't pay rent. I don't have a college degree and no one will hire me for anything better. I let myself spend this time dwelling on my emotional problems, but I feel like it's wasted."

And like the grown man he was, he started crying.

"Percy," Annabeth's voice sliced through his too-loud sobs. "Can I hug you?"

"Ran out of other solutions?" he tried to tease, but she probably didn't understand his blubbering. His skin jumped under her touch, and he instinctively pulled away and curled up, but she slipped her arms around him anyway. She was sturdy and pressing into his back and his face was brushing her neck and he was about to lose it, he really did want her and that was all he could think about which was really stupid, but it didn't last forever and he was lost in his problems and aching again.

"This is so unfair," he gasped. "Why can't I just-just use once" and she tightened her hold on him and he returned to heaving. Eventually, he pulled himself up and looked at the clock. "I need to get to work soon."

"I'm sorry about all this," Annabeth said softly.

He nodded. He was still glad he went on a spending spree with his savings. Otherwise, he didn't know if they'd even be having this conversation right now. "I don't know why I gave up heroin, and I don't know what I'm going to do. But I think the more painful journey is worth it."

"Says the ex-opioid addict," Annabeth said with a grin.

"Says the coffee addict," he retorted even though it didn't make sense.

Annabeth placed their mugs in the sink. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

He blinked. "What?"

"The Christmas party? It's December 23, Percy."

"Shoot."

"It's fine, remember, no unnecessary gifts. Just be ready for food."

"Um, wasn't I supposed to bring food?" He had some vague plans of Harvey helping him transform a whole loaf of Wonder Bread into French toast, but he didn't know if either of them had the money to go grocery shopping.

Annabeth shrugged. "It's not a rule-rule, some people just don't like to be emptyhanded. I could use a sous chef for my figgy pudding."

"Yeah, no thanks." He mustered a smile, and they cracked up. She must've felt extra nice if she gave him this offer after he butchered up that tomato soup. "I'll think up of something else."

"Well, get to work then." She stared after him when he closed the door.

-line break-

He was expecting a pretty mundane day at work. Making the rounds, suppressing his cravings, making light conversations with Grover. Not running out the door.

Percy stomped off snow from his boots, left the staff room in his jumpsuit and discovered the exact opposite. Everyone was too distraught to notice the puffiness around his eyes. There was Easy Cheese on the walls, smashed Twinkies before the doorway, a comic-book fort with Grover hiding inside behind the counter, Connor in a cow onesie and also cowering (that pun probably deserved a pat on the back) behind the drinks fridge, and Travis nonchalantly hammering a shelf with a crying baby on his hip.

His jaw dropped. "Do I want to know what happened?" He asked.

Travis raised his unruly eyebrows. "What do you think?"

And then, the worst of the worst, a happy, easily overspending suburban couple was heading down the street, looking a little casual chic and lost, and the wife's tennis bracelet slid down her arm as she pointed towards their shop. From their golf magazine smiles, they didn't realize the carnage in here and was ready to buy the most expensive mineral waters in the shop.

"Guys. We need to clean this up. Right now."

Connor nodded. "I think so too," he whispered.

Percy glanced around. "Grover? Take charge!"

His best friend shot him with eye-daggers and wormed his way out of the collapsing fort. But he complied. "Connor, go out and tell them about this nice Australian milk we have. Hold them for as long as possible. Travis, maybe take the shelf into the back. And sic Corey on the Twinkies."

Travis glared at him as Connor reluctantly dragged his feet to the door. "Corey is a baby! He doesn't eat food yet!"

"Fine, um, take him to the back room."

Travis said something under his breath that sounded like ancient Greek. "Grover, stop. Travis, take charge." They gawked at him as he straightened, being the self-appointed leader now. "You've got a girlfriend, Grover, you're probably going to need the practice soon, so hold Corey. Then grab his pacifier from the baby bag, and you go into the back room. Jackson, get the mop and some towels." He put the shelf with a few nails sticking out of it behind the drinks fridge and pushed Connor outside.

Percy quickly collected the cleaning tools inside the staff room while Grover rummaged around the "baby bag." "His name is Corey?" he asked with nothing else to say, peering over at the red-faced little baby that was energetically sucker-punching Grover every few seconds. It was the same baby he met last time, with tufts of curling brown hair and Travis' twisted lips. He was in a little giraffe onesie. But neither Annabeth or Katie called him a name.

"Oomph!" Grover shrieked. "Yeah, Travis just lost the naming war. I don't know the details, but those two are, well," his eyes looked vaguely haunted, "interesting when it comes to deciding things. It's a shortened version of Coreopsis, which is a little yellow-colored flower. Aaurgh!"

"His birth certificate says Coreopsis Stoll?"

"I have no idea, can certificates be updated? Aha! The pacifier!" Corey grabbed it, glared darkly at Grover and then sucked blissfully.

Percy filled the buckets for the mops and hurried outside, throwing Travis the towels to wipe up the masterfully sprayed Easy Cheese. "What about Pike?"

Travis shrugged, and then remembered his baby carrier. "He's out snoring."

"I'm a little curious," he mumbled, gazing back up at the cheese. "Who did that?"

Travis shot him a familiar glare. "I said, you don't want to know. Keep moping."

The door pushed open. "…yeah, I looked at the milk crates, they're quite fresh and they've really got the smell of Australian grass. Yeah, you know what I mean, right? And if that's not your thing, we do have 500-thread count Kleenex, and a '96 bottle of Sauvignon waiting for the right owner." Connor really was a smooth talker, even in his cow onesie. He gave them a quick side glance. "Sorry there's a bit of a mess, we had some eager customers earlier. New shipment of cremes. That'll get cleaned up soon."

Travis dropped his rag and straightened up like he'd never been wiping an inconspicuous stain off the wall. In a blink, he was behind the counter, straightening the tip jar and the stack of Rio mints. "Welcome to Freidman's, nice to meet you," he said and flashed his cheeky, only slightly crooked smile.

Percy just lowered his head and moped faster. He couldn't believe how the Stolls were taking over. Connor did produce a dusty bottle of Sauvignon, though it didn't really appear to hold wine, and slapped a big bow on top as the husband was asking to taste it. "Travis, have you got a nice gift bag for our guests here?"

"Yeah, of course," he answered, knotting the handles together tightly when Connor dropped the wine in. "Anything else?"

And then, right on cue, Corey began wailing. The couple jumped. "What is that sound?"

"The youngest Freidman, of course," Connor assured with a smile. "He probably needs to be fed, but his mommy leaves on this day to check with our farmers. Don't worry, he knows how to handle the formula." Percy tried not to snort at the magical image of this family-owned grocery. He looked up when he felt their gazes. Connor was giving him an exaggeratedly cheerful smile he realized he was supposed to mimic. Swallowing heavily, he mustered a quick grin before dumping the creamy mop into the bucket and tried not to run for the back room.

Grover glanced up, furiously rocking Corey and looking lost. The pacifier was all the way across the room. "Man, my dream of being a stay-at-home dad is gone."

Without thinking, Percy set down the things and held out his arms. He didn't know what he was thinking and was about to back away, but then Grover was coming forward and dumping Corey into his hold. The little baby quieted down at the feel of a stranger's arms, which was weird, but Percy wasn't going to question it when his breath was snatched away. He was so little, so fragile and new, and maybe he was going to do good in the world that Percy couldn't or some other stupid thought he would never say aloud, but it was nice holding a baby that had nothing to do with him but he could still be around for a little while.

"Phew, he's quiet now," Grover muttered, going off to hunt for the pacifier.

"Why is he here, though? What happened to Katie?"

Grover shrugged. "I didn't catch much from their fight, but she got called to her shop and I quote 'this place has no business.' She still needs to nurse him. Hopefully for a long time, or at least until they find a nice caretaker, because I don't think I could handle more visits."

Corey leaned his head into Percy's chest, and he felt something damp spread. He winced but didn't move.

Grover raised his eyebrows and started digging in the baby bag. "I don't know why there are so many tiny socks in here! Oh, the bib is inside a sock."

"Um, maybe don't put the bib on. I think he's asleep." Percy marveled at how easily the little guy slipped into dream world. "Is there, I don't know, a foldable crib in there?"

"There's a foldable stroller and rocker, but no crib." Grover rolled his eyes. "I think we need his daddy for this."

Percy always wondered what kind of dad Travis would be, what with his smirk half the time and then the scowl and utter irresponsibleness, but he clearly had way more experience holding and taking care of his baby. "Come here, Corey," he murmured, which Connor immediately repeated in a squeaky voice, but he seemed not to care and tucked him in blankets on top of a milk crate.

"Your name still sucks though," he whispered last before straightening. Then he squinted at the rest of them. "Why are you staring? Jackson barely mopped up the Twinkies!"

-line break-

Percy couldn't wait until he got out of his jumpsuit. And then he realized he had to face Harvey tonight.

"You look glum, dude," Grover said lightly as Pike locked up. He shifted his Rasta cap to keep the snow out of his curls.

Percy shrugged inside his hood. "Nah, I'll be alright."

"Juniper's heading to a spa with her friends which she hates doing, but she can't get out of it, so it's just us dudes. My place or yours?"

"There's nothing to do at my place, G-man."

"Hey, I can bring a laptop or a board game or something. Harvey's a good player."

Something flashed in his memory. He looked away. "What, like a card game?"

"Sure? I think I have a deck somewhere. Let's not bet any money, though."

Percy tried not to grimace. He didn't want to face Harvey just yet. He was probably escaping or whatever, but he still wanted some time to enjoy what he had left and think about what to say. How he could salvage something. "Can I just, um, clear my head for today? Walk somewhere?"

Grover stared at him. For a moment, Percy wondered if he'd relent, nod and look away. But then he crossed his arms. "Where, exactly?"

"Um, just wander?" It sounded wrong in his voice. He should've known better than to copy ridiculous things Annabeth said.

Grover bit his lip. "Dude, I trust you and everything, but I'll also have to follow you. I know you sometimes…." He paused and swallowed. "It's uncontrollable."

This sounded eerily similar to a conversation they had before. Where Grover talked about his stepdad, and he wasn't trying to pry, just to be nice, but Percy exploded back in his face. And he was trying to explain that he believed in Percy, that he was better, and Percy was cutting him off. Because they'd come to a similar conclusion.

Grover's eyes slowly alighted. "No, I don't mean that. I mean it's not from you," he rushed to explain, "and you can't control if it…"

Percy shook his head. "It's a part of me. Both my addiction and learned abuse. Of course it is. It's in my memory glands, my brain. And it's probably ingrained. But I can control it. I can try."

Grover's nervous swallowing was broken by a small smile. "Yeah, yeah you can. But when you're not telling yourself all the right things, I can't let you be alone."

Percy returned the bittersweet smile. This was such a stupid conversation, how he cared for each him and kept going back and forth, but he was grateful for having a friend that would. "Fine, I just need some time to think, but I don't want to put that on you guys. I know what you're going to say, but you two don't need to have a quiet night because of me. I'll see someone else."

"Who?"

There was already a name on the tip of his tongue, one that he wasn't entirely sure of, and he was definitely scared to say it, but he did so anyway. "Nico." Their eyes widened at the same time.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm going to see Nico."

-line break-

"What." Nico's voice was cool. It didn't sound like a question at all.

Percy groaned. He thought it would be the better idea to call Nico, because Nico hated his spelling (he didn't know about or bothered with autocorrect) and never texted much in his life, but Percy forgot all about the awkward silences and subtle noises often meant something unsaid. "I just think it would be, uh, nice to have your company."

"Really." Now his voice was dry. It was like traveling through different climates.

_Why can't you make this a little easier on me? _He thought, but of course he deserved it. He decided to go with the worst route, but it was supposed to be a virtue, even though that didn't help, and be honest. Sort of. "Talk? Maybe? I mean. I have something to say." He cleared his throat, hoping he would stop being all high-pitched and sounding like everything he said was a question.

"And why can't you say it now?"

Percy tried not to groan or crumple to the ground. Did he think there was nothing worth hearing from Percy in person? Was he doing this on purpose or was he always like this? But he deserved the full truth. "Because I need to be truthful. And because I need someone babysitting me for the evening, or maybe just an hour, and I probably just contacted you because there are too many things I'm pushing back but at least this situation won't get a lot worse and I promised Grover I'd do this." He breathed out. "And, well, the thing I don't want to say is that I need to apologize."

He wasn't wary of apologizing because he made him look bad or something. But it made him vulnerable, and especially vulnerable to losing a friend. Which he thought was the worst attack of them all. He knew Nico held grudges easily. Once, when the Stolls took a Mythomagic card, he stayed mad about it until they got him a new stack and the extremely rare Mnemosyne card, who had something to do with memory, except even then he hasn't completely given it up because she was a Titaness. Percy didn't want to apologize and see the grudge harden inside Nico even further.

But he offered, and now he wasn't taking it back.

"Well, go on," Nico said, his voice a little bit different.

"I just said not on a phone call!" Percy spluttered.

Something that sort of, maybe, just possibly sounded like a muffled laugh escaped into his phone. "Fine. Where?" His voice actually lifted in a question, which Percy saw as a good sign.

"Um. Your place?"

"No. I don't need you looking around and making annoying comments about my decor."

Percy raised his eyebrows, even though he couldn't see. That was a weird excuse. "And why would I do that?"

Nico ignored him. "Where else? They go to Starbucks in all the books."

Percy didn't know Nico was a reader. But he couldn't exactly afford much there, or anywhere at all. "Maybe somewhere emptier? With less people and nothing to buy? Like a bench?"

"Not a bar. I have no wish to see you drunk," he said disdainfully. "That sounds nice, and where are you going to find one?"

"I have a quiet street in mind." He thought Nico was about to hang up, but instead he heard a door closing in the back, and Nico asked quietly, "Where are you?"

He was startled. "Why are you asking?"

"Am I not supposed to walk with you?"

"Why would you?"

"Percy, I'm trying to give you some dignity in the matter. I don't think you should be going by yourself."

He was very, extremely suspicious that Annabeth gave the whole city a notice. "I'm next to work, but it's going to take 10 more minutes for us to head to the bench together and I'm not counting traffic," but he heard a ringing sound and realized Nico might have said goodbye and hung up already.

As much as he dreaded this conversation, he was also a little eager. Because Nico was an old friend, maybe only to Percy, but he liked seeing his old friends still alive and well and he'd been waiting too long to get things off his chest.

He and Grover were sitting on the curb, hoping to look like so-called innocent teenagers or at least hobos and not loiterers, when Nico finally ambled up. They could barely see the paleness of his face inside his black parka, black cap, and black scarf. He blinked like he wasn't used to the light of day.

He glanced at Grover, and they shared a nod. Grover was Percy's friend in middle school but stubbornly stayed in touch when well, everything fell apart, and he'd been introduced to all of Percy's old friends before they left him. Grover even came on a few drives when he wasn't busy with his extracurriculars or college apps.

"How are you, Neeks?" Grover said, standing up with a small smile. "I haven't seen you in a while."

Nico shrugged. "Yeah. I've been busy."

"We should catch up sometime. With everyone else." He didn't bother to specify.

"Sure." It was a bit silted, but Percy still envied Grover's right to tease him and be nice even though they had less time together. Probably a perk of not killing his sister. Percy shoved the thoughts out of his mind when Nico turned to him. "Are we going?"

"Yeah, yeah." He stood up and dusted himself off. "Thanks for waiting, G-man. Have fun with Harvey tonight!"

"Oh, we will. Have a nice time with the bench."

Neither of them smiled. Grover put up his hands and turned the other way.

"So. We should go." Nico lifted a shoulder.

"Yeah."

"Lead the way."

The first few minutes of the walk was more awkward than he ever imagined. He was about to speak, but Nico suddenly gestured at him to step back and he was trying to figure out what he meant when a motorcyclist barreled past him on the sideway, curving into the puddle of murky, half-melted snow.

"What's wrong with the bicycle lane?" Percy asked himself.

Nico picked it up anyway and shrugged. "Were you going to say anything?"

It was just a lame conversation starter, and it completely fell out of his brain. "No."

"Yeah, you were."

"It wasn't really important."

Nico rolled his eyes to the cloudy heavens. "Well, we can walk and not talk or we can walk and talk."

"Um, what are you doing recently? Like, for money."

Nico gave him a side glance. "I don't have a real job."

"Oh."

He paused before speaking. "It's not clean."

Percy widened his eyes before automatically steeling himself. "Are you worried about ears?" He looked around. He thought they were in neutral territory, but he stopped having a reason to think about gangs when he stopped dealing. He lowered his voice, chin still up like they were having a normal conversation. "Are you trafficking?"

Nico made an incredulous sound. "What? I'm not trafficking anything."

The job sounded pretty clean to him. "Gambling?"

Nico gave him a long stare. He didn't look a lot better off, but last Percy had heard, designer brands used a lot of black. "I'm not good at guessing."

"I move bodies. Dead bodies." He stared at the ground. "Most graveyard managers know cemeteries are real estate, so they wait until the family stops visiting and has the coffin buried elsewhere, and it's a new plot of land to sell. That's kind of like trafficking, I suppose."

"That sounds like a fairly clean job to me," Percy said, and then wished he could swallow the words back down. Morality was morality, and people who wanted to honor it should be allowed to. "I mean, you're not hurting anyone this way. And well, sometimes people need to learn to let go. Even of a corpse." One thing he missed was being able to talk about death so easily because they've seen it too much. Other people would find it macabre or emo, but it wasn't something that haunted or enthralled him, it was just there all the time.

"You just hold onto something else," Nico said lowly. "We're lucky, that it will always be Bianca, Silena, and Beckendorf. Our cemetery is worth nothing. Some of the rich know about this, and have guarded mausoleums and that land is really there for eternity, but it doesn't matter. Someone could live a long age, return to this city and discover the tombstone is different. It still is something."

Percy wondered if he heard him correctly. And he felt even more guilty. He could always visit his dead people. He knew exactly where they were, and even if he hated visiting a cold patch of grass and being around some lifeless organic matter, he could go if he wanted. He had memories to carry. Nico's mother died when a lightning bolt struck a hotel, and everything burned to the ground. His father was nonexistent in his life, but he was alive, somewhere.

It didn't seem like something he deserved apologizing for. Nico's olive-toned, marble-like expression had twitched a little when he said Bianca, and Percy was beginning to hope Nico hated him. Which he would deserve.

"There it is." He pointed. "The bench."

It was icy, and the snow melted under his bare hands and Nico's black gloves, creating a big damp spot. Sitting on it together was a lot worse than walking. He was so aware that Nico should've been a little brother to him, and they were just keeping their distance and he was hunching his shoulders slightly, like he wanted to protect himself. Percy never brought himself to say a thing about Bianca.

He was spitefully overjoyed that someone else had to go through the same thing as him, and he was choking on guilt every night about it too.

He stared at his feet and willed his voice to keep steady. "I didn't tell you what happened."

Nico nodded.

"Do you want to know?"

Nico sighed, still silent.

Percy shook his head. "The dealers, the source of the cocaine, they were tired of reaching through Chris. They told me to meet up with them at night. I wasn't earning enough," he felt his heartbeat sprinting, "because I was using up all the money on heroin. They found me the perfect spot, dedicated customers," he felt something burn in his throat from saying that, "and there was no reason for making less money. You asked me to keep—" he felt his voice breaking, "keep Bianca close, and I wasn't thinking. I could've blown them off, I knew Grover wasn't even busy that night, I could've protected her some other way. But I took her to the meeting. I parked far away, I told her to stay there, and the guys were angry at me, and we were about to fight. I was so high, I didn't even bring a knife. Bianca yelled, and she was about to get out and do something. I know she was. They had guns." And his tear ducts, which were clearly unaffected but trauma and Reyna's insisting and any ounce of shame, opened up. _F**k withdrawal_, he thought. But he had to finish the story, and swallowed hard. "I told them I'd do anything for them, but they knew I was bluffing, and one guy noticed the scars on my arm, and it was obvious I was really talking about my addiction, and Bianca had disabled the car lock somehow. I don't know if she intimidated them, but they wanted to get something through to me. So they shot before she could leave the car."

And then he was ugly crying, making terrible heaving noises, whispering, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" over and over. He was hating himself for signing up for these conversations and for letting Nico down and knowing he would do it all over again if he could just touch heroin again and for crying so much but he couldn't stop. And then he was mad at himself for crying because it was just a mechanism to wash the pain away and he didn't deserve to lose a moment of pain when Nico received a lifetime. He thought about Bianca every day, of course, but it didn't grip his breaths or wear on him or live in every millisecond of his existence.

He was grateful Nico didn't pat him or say anything. He just sat there, staring at the mostly-empty street, looking almost the same as a few minutes ago. And Percy understood why, he rarely cried for his mother, because that pain was too exhausting to do anything but feel, he'd never granted himself too much of that luxury. Reyna would be proud. It wasn't something to just share with the world, and really Percy was just crying for himself and how difficult it would be to carry this guilt around forever.

"Percy," Nico said quietly. Percy abruptly shut up and hoped his tears would stop streaking out of his eyes soon. "I don't blame you. It won't change anything."

And Percy felt like slipping down the bench and curling up on the dirty, snowy ground. Because it was still the last thing he wanted to hear. If he stopped being guilty, stopped being angry, there was nothing else left to do but mourn, and nothing to prevent himself from ever doing the same thing again. But he couldn't say anything aloud, because he was supposed to respect Nico's sister's death enough to be more than something to beat himself up about and use as a reminder. Even though he kept doing so.

"Your guilt is your problem. Of course every one of us could've done something differently to keep her alive." His voice turned almost a little wistful, but the tone faded away. "It's only one way to hold on."

Percy looked over and noticed how uncomfortable Nico was in the bright open air, being a part of this talk. He didn't talk about his older sister a lot. Pretty much ever. He didn't make the phone call half as difficult as this was for him.

"Thank you for coming." Percy glanced away before he was staring. Nico glanced up, his eyes rippling with pain and memories and grief, like they always did, but he only looked solemnly at Percy like he'd long moved on from him and where he was.

A half-baked idea dropped into his mind, like he used his daily quota of being serious already. He didn't want to say it, but it was clearly showing on his face because Nico leaned back, expectant.

"Um. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve."

"I know."

Percy didn't know if he was hoping he wasn't the only to forget, or he couldn't find a better way to start. "Are you doing something at night?"

"Yes."

He blinked. Well, his life did seem to be more interesting than Percy's. "What?"

"Why are you asking?"

"There's this dinner. Also a get-together." He crooked up one corner of his lips, but it wasn't a really convincing smile. "Do you want to come?"

Nico thought for a moment, his gaze falling away. "A party?"

"I don't think it's the rowdy kind. The dinner is for a lot of people, it's going to be a potluck, but the thing afterwards is just a smaller group, so you don't have to come if you don't want to. My friend invited me," he blabbed.

Nico raised an eyebrow. Percy wondered if he should feel insulted.

"My therapist," he muttered, "but she is my friend. Are you doing something, then?"

"Depends. Can I bring someone?"

Percy instinctively hid his grin, but then he let it burst through. "Yeah." He was planning on doing so too, if he could bring himself to talk to Harvey, they would have some food to bring. "You're not supposed to bring gifts unless it is something someone needs, but it is a potluck."

"I'll try." Nico nodded, almost smiling a little.

"Great!" Percy realized he sounded a little like Annabeth, but he didn't care. He forced down his smile.

"Don't get too excited, Percy."

"I'm not."

"Okay, then I'm going home."

"I'll see you?"

"Yeah."

-line break-

It was a terrible checklist. He still had one more talk. Sighing, he unlocked the door, the key burning inside his palm, and in return the deadbolt and chains were slid away. Percy realized that he hadn't dealt with the rest of the inside locks in a long time, that if he just knocked, Harvey would open up.

The door was pulled open. Harvey was standing there in his coat, his hair a mess, looking tired and happy at the same time. His hands smelled like vodka.

Percy felt suddenly grateful he knew this kid. He gave him a small smile. "Let's go to the kitchen."

Grover waved at them from Harvey's bedside, and then returned animatedly to thumbing a game on his phone that boomed "poacher down!" every few seconds.

Harvey nodded and fell in step behind him. He was so trusting, Percy's heart ached. He wondered what Reyna would think. But Harvey wasn't innocent or gullible, and he certainly was tough. Reyna believed in protecting a community, her community before herself and defending their needs as a whole. Percy knew he didn't belong in that community anymore, but he wanted to do the same, like Harvey already did, with the people he had now.

The kitchen had a creaky door they rarely closed so everyone could have free access to the liquor cabinet. Percy struggled to draw it closed. Harvey leaned against the stove, like he was most comfortable there. The kitchen cupboards weren't half-hanging from their hinges, the sink wasn't clogging, and the window was letting in a slight breeze. It looked like Harvey was putting Leo's tools and gear to use.

Harvey suddenly straightened. "Can I show you something?"

"Sure." Percy's speech was cut off.

He opened the counter underneath the stove. It was dark, and Percy had no idea what was there, but it whirred gently. "It's an electric stove now! It's connected to a solar panel, outside, and this will store extra energy on sunny days, but since it's winter, I'm using the energy from a potato and an apple."

Percy felt his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

"The potato was from the groceries, but it was pretty green, so it would be too poisonous to eat. The apple was left in the alley because it was so bruised. Did you know, because of enzymes, a rotting apple would cause the rest of the apples in a bunch to also start rotting?"

Percy wondered what this kid even did in his free time.

"It's not renewable energy, I'm just using it for now." The stove also looked newly installed, and was a sleek, flat plane instead of a circle of flame-releasing spouts. He turned on the knob and touched his fingers to the surface. "It's getting warm."

It was getting a little disconcerting, so Harvey turned it off when he noticed his expression.

"So, I own you an explanation."

Harvey blinked and nodded.

Percy wasn't sure if just talking would suffice. And he knew Harvey was a smart kid. He drew up his sleeves, even though it was icy cold, even though he rarely exposed his arms in public, of course Annabeth being the exception because she never looked. Harvey's eyes flitted down the thousands of tiny white scars on his arms, punctured around his blood vessels like sharks. He glanced back up, his expression changing to be a little more guarded, but unable to mask his surprise. Percy knew he was really hiding fear.

Percy yanked his sleeves back up. "Yeah. It's exactly that. I would like to say I'm sober now. But not for long, and I don't feel like it. I don't know if it'll last. That's why I'm messed up. The main reason anyway," he exhaled with a sigh. He propped himself up on the kitchen table, like he needed support. He suddenly remembered the last time they had a conversation in the kitchen, when he was questioning Harvey about why he dragged him out to buy alcohol. They were so different now. "I don't really trust myself to stay clean. And everything, the pain, it's coming back." He whispered the last part, staring daggers into the ground, because no matter how often he decided to be vulnerable, it was still scary, almost as scary as what was happening to him. When he spoke again, his breath was ragged. "That's why I try to act normal around you. It's not working, I know."

"Sorry," Harvey said quietly. "I'm sorry you have to go through this." He was the first one to try and meet Percy's eyes. Because he was probably a lot braver, and he cared. Which was a shocking thought, every time Percy had it. They had nothing to do with each other. They didn't need to. And Harvey decided to reach out and make sure he was okay, and now they cared for each other. It felt impossible.

"I'm going to sleep at Grover's home tonight, so he can keep an eye on me. You should get your rest."

Harvey looked almost annoyed at him. "It's not like there's anything for me to do. I take naps every day." They were reading together a little earlier too, so Percy could spend more hours laying awake and staring at the ceiling, but Harvey seemed to benefit from it.

"No, I don't want to ask. Grover insisted."

Harvey shifted his weight. "Can I come?"

He wondered if Harvey was imagining a sleepover where they watched horror movies into the night and pigged out on junk food or something. He was envisioning himself cursing and sobbing over Grover's sleeping body as he tried to pry the door open. Harvey certainly wouldn't be catching any sleep.

Percy's poker face must've been getting worse, because Harvey set his shoulders. "Just for company."

He was probably saying that on purpose, but Percy caved at honesty. It was a terrible thing he was trying out, and he had to appreciate Harvey for it. "Fine. I'll see if we can get you any earplugs."

Harvey smiled, and Percy shouldered the door open and they went out to find Grover belatedly staring at his phone and listening to realistic-sounding dying animal noises. "The poacher won," he informed them.

"Next round, man," Percy said, patting his shoulder. "Do you have soundproof walls?"

"No," Grover said, now scrolling through different rifles. "Who can afford those?"

"Noise-canceling headphones? Earplugs?" Percy said as he picked up a set of clothes and some origami papers from his corner of the room. Grover was right, he didn't even have to yell from them to hear him perfectly.

"No. What's wrong with cotton balls?" he murmured, and then triumphantly exclaimed, "Aha!" as one rifle gave off a round of violent demonstrative shots. "This'll massacre all of the humans," he said to himself giddily.

"Can Harvey come over? He makes good breakfast." Harvey tried to smile winningly and gave two thumb-ups.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Grover answered, and then said under his breath, "Come here, little guy," and then his phone erupted in shooting.

Percy decided to ignore his best friend and turned to Harvey. "Okay, get your stuff. Also, um, do you want to come with me to a dinner tomorrow?"

"Sure?" Harvey rolled up his blanket. "What do I need?"

It was probably the same reaction Percy would've given, but he didn't have the time or energy to get weepy again. "We just have to show up, but it would be nice to make some food."

Harvey nodded slowly, looking lost in thought. "I think the cocoa powder is still usable, I can make some skillet brownies with the new stove." He turned to Grover. "Do you have any vanilla extract at your place?"

Grover was still busy laughing maniacally as he kept shooting. Harvey shrugged. "I'll just go on a quick grocery run."

"No, I can grab some for you at work. Thanks. The afterparty is at Annabeth's place."

Harvey brightened. "So I finally get to meet her?"

"Yeah." Percy could only hope that would turn out well and he wouldn't ask her something stupid about babies or their relationship. "Grover, you're also invited," he said and nudged his friend with his foot. He glanced at Chris' bed around the corner, where he was watching something on his laptop. "I'm pretty sure she said the more the merrier."

**I can't wait for the next chapter. But I have to, well, write it first. **

**Review replies:**

**all about hope: Hey! I loved reading your review. Food coloring is awesome. And dyeing milk, that's amazing. Try making it mint green, because that reminds me of peppermint smoothies and possibly makes it taste better? No, you are not the one questioning the existence of a word. I'm such a nerd with vocabulary, but I'm not exactly great with it and I have similar questions as you all the time. On a slightly unrelated note, there's this quiz on Merriam-Webster where you have to identify which word is real or has the right definition, and I always suck at it, but it is fun. I'm going to be honest with you, 10pm is not very late, but I also get sleepy then, especially on Fridays ****. Thank you so much for saying you enjoyed this, that's really sweet. I honestly wanted to go back and edit chapter three to reply to you then but I don't know your reading speed or anything but hopefully you're seeing this now. Anyway, thanks again!**

**MrGilborg: You don't know how much I look forward to your reviews. Don't apologize for giving constructive criticism, it's so helpful. You're not being nitpicky, and I can say this because I'm the queen of nitpicking and I will point out the tiniest mistakes, and I appreciate that part the most. I know it was really confusing, thanks for pointing that out and being even more nice in your PM, seriously. I decided to go with flashbacks instead, hopefully some of the other readers were less confused. I totally agree with you, I should've spaced out the time skips and slowly worked it in, but I didn't bother to fill out some gaps in the main plotline or somehow give an explanation. I did intend for them to be completely separate from the present, which I'm only realizing now doesn't exactly make sense in this story, but I'm not the biggest fan of flashbacks and I did want to introduce what happened a little differently than usual. Flashbacks are a good tool, but in my opinion, a little overused and not always realistic, but it makes the most sense here. Ironically, LSD (which I mentioned at the start) is a psychedelic, just like his antidepressants supposedly are, and which I didn't even realize when I rewrote it. Anyway, the whole last chapter was a tribute to Brooklyn Nine-Nine, haha. Yeah, Santiago kind of inspired me to create Santos, but the name was just kind of stuck in my memory when I was working on a paper and mentioned how it's the most popular last name in the Philippines and it's Spanish. I think fillers are also super important, I mean you might not necessarily see any action but you learn stuff about the characters and the setting and makes the pacing more realistic. This whole thing would get depressing very fast if I didn't use them. And about Zoë, you should be able to figure that out from the slightly edited version ****. I see now you're not a big fan of spoilers, sorry, I should've asked before lobbing all that at you. However, sit tight, something related will come up, maybe you've guessed it. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Au revoir,**

**Pride-and-loyalty**


	18. Chapter 18

**Man, my timing is perfect. Who doesn't love Christmas in July ****? Well, I had to experience it first when my mom came into my room one morning and put on French Christmas music in hopes I would get out of bed and absorb a heap of vocabs before the exam. I…don't think it helped. **

**And happy late Independence Day and Annabeth's birthday!**

**Enjoy! **

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: "Though this be madness, yet there is a method in't." -Shakespeare, Hamlet_

Percy woke up when a braided rug pushed up against his airway. Groaning, he rolled around and discovered that his legs were still draped on the couch, and there was a dark puddle in the carpet by his cheek.

He shouldn't have been glad about making a mess on his best friend's admittedly already messy floor, but drooling as he slept was something unique to him, long before any dependency or withdrawal symptoms, all the way back to his linty crib. It was like an old friend that phased away when he stopped sleeping, and Percy would like to admit he welcomed seeing it.

He distantly heard Grover singing Green Day and clanging things around in the kitchen. Percy unceremoniously dropped his legs from the couch and pushed himself up. Exhaustion pushed in his limbs. He felt his pulse beat irregularly for a moment against his throat: _ba-DUMP, BA-dump, ba-DUMP _before it faded into the background noise of all his bodily functions_._ The morning was freezing, because Grover didn't buy (or could afford) any heat, the sleeping bags were already rolled up from the doorway, and he saw a thin, grimy layer of snow covering the clustered apartment complex. It hit him a moment later.

It was Christmas Eve, and the day he would have to attend that party he went out and invited so many people to. He didn't get drunk often, but he was having the same sensation of a hangover: the morning light (especially those blindingly bright wintry knives that stabbed his eyeballs) was awful and he couldn't exactly recall everything he did but he was certain it was stupid.

Inside the kitchen, Grover was without his Rasta cap for once, wearing a terrible brown sweater patterned with holly, and Harvey was almost completely hidden in the cupboard under the sink, which seemed to be emitting soft grunts and the clink of metal against metal on its own.

"Good morning," he mumbled through his yawn.

Grover spun around, dropping the spatula and knife in his hands. Percy's sluggish morning instincts were rushed into overdrive and he dove for the blade, but they both innocuously fell against Grover's butt-ugly lemon floor tiles. Harvey craned his head out of the cupboard as far as he could with one arm still holding together the pipes and nodded hello.

"Finally, you're up!" Grover set his cooking utensils back against his vegetable-heaped chopping board and looked him up-and-down. "Sorry, I crashed at midnight, did I miss anything?"

"Aren't you supposed to be good at cramming for exams in the early hours of the morning?" Percy lightly teased.

Grover rolled his eyes. "No, because that would be wasting time while I went on hot dates," he said sarcastically. Percy snorted. "So?"

Percy pulled open the cupboard door. "I was chasing an overgrown child and well, a literal child around this apartment for hours because someone suggested a game of tag in the dark. I face-planted into the couch and fell asleep before you, most likely." His fingers brushed the bag of organic instant coffee packets in the back, specially reserved for Juniper, but Grover got the plus-size bag. He wished for some espresso, but powdery stuff would have to do. He imagined Annabeth grimacing, and that cheered him up a little.

"Okay. That's good." Grover grinned, returning back to the mess on his chopping board. Percy recognized bell peppers and mushrooms and some salad greens, and they kept falling off the edges as Grover chopped. "Harvey was up way before us. He was fixing everything and even figured out how to use my blender! I swear, I never knew how useful duct tape is."

Percy got a glass and went to the bathroom to fill it up with tap water. When he left, a pan on the stove was snapping and crackling under the weight of Grover's messily chopped ingredients. He gave Percy a bashful side-glance. "I also I invited Juniper."

"To make breakfast?" Percy asked hopefully.

"No, to the Christmas dinner. And Jake, because I mean Leo is his brother, and also Dakota, because I don't like the thought of him drinking alone—"

Percy shrugged, washing down another gulp of the grainy coffee. "Okay. Harvey, how about the brownies?"

The boy leaned back out. "I still need the vanilla extract from you guys. I'm ready to prep everything else." Harvey peered up at the pan. "Keep stirring."

Percy blinked. "How are we supposed to get it?" He rubbed his eyes when Grover reminded him about work. He completely forgot that Pike made them get the store all "gussied up" on Christmas eve, all for the procrastinating gift-buyers. Even Percy had to pitch in and had tied bows on many a bushel of asparagus. They had been circling through the terrible holiday playlist and hung up some bows and tinsel for the last week already, but none of them could stand hearing the plastic bells ring for longer than a shift. "Right. Then hurry up, uh, whatever that is."

"Vegan omelets, of course!" Grover lifted a bowl with flourish and splattered in yellowish liquid.

A few seconds later, Harvey tossed down his wrench and jumped to Grover's side. "It's burning," he said with low urgency in his voice Percy didn't recall hearing.

Grover stared at him. "I'm supposed to let the vegan eggs sit."

Harvey flicked off the fire and yanked a fork from the drawer. "Some vegetables fell out," he said grimly. He scraped the charred remains of what was probably broccoli from the stovetop, half of it crumpling into ashes.

Grover cautiously turned the heat back on as Harvey peered inside. "It's not cut or spread uniformly, so heat convection will only touch upon the center of the omelets. I mean, the origin of cooking is just controlling fire," Harvey explained, playing with the dial on the stove. His eyes were glowing and Percy wouldn't be surprised if he burst into a lecture.

Grover spent the next few minutes dutifully stirring and seasoning, and Harvey checked the sink's tap. Percy refilled his glass and poured in a new packet while Grover distributed the scrambled-looking omelets onto three plates.

Harvey had clearly not perfected his poker face, which was a street skill he definitely needed to learn, and his whole expression crumpled.

"What?" Grover yelped.

Harvey swallowed. "Nothing. It's okay."

At that point, Percy didn't have the appetite to pretend to eat. He couldn't force down food, it felt like his esophagus wouldn't carry it down because he was so unhungry. And he was a little wary of throwing up.

The other two were starting to notice his fork didn't enter his mouth. Harvey had probably watched every single National Geographic episode about withdrawal already, and his best friend could definitely see through his excuses. He hid his grimace well as he swallowed a few bites. Then he announced he forgot to take his antidepressants and Annabeth would kill him. He sounded cheery enough, and it was Christmas Eve, and Grover naturally burst into sniggers at the mention of his therapist/so-called love interest, so they left him well alone and divvied up his leftovers.

When they entered upon the opened boxes of wreaths and ornaments and plastic pine needles inside Freidman's Grocery, Grover saw the Stolls and immediately burst out, "There's a Christmas party tonight!"

Travis straightened with a giant gaudy wreath in his hand. "Where?"

"My friend's place." Percy paused. "Actually, my friend's friend's place." Though the thought of Hazel as his friend still sat a little strangely. And he was horribly dreading it.

Travis raised an eyebrow. "What part of New York?"

Percy squatted down and pulled out a section of the fake pine tree. "It's still downtown, but I think Upper East? I can send you the address."

Connor's mouth formed a small "o" in a silent whistle. "We'll think about it," he finished, stacking another portion of the tree onto the plastic roots. "And when is it?"

"At dinnertime!" Grover sang out. "Perce, we should skip lunch. It sounds like there's going to be so much food."

Pike shoved his door open. "Why isn't anything up? And why are you hanging up the bells already, Stoll?" He shot them an angry, bloodshot glare and slammed his office door closed again.

Connor quickly dropped the bells. That was one sound that could wake up Pike. They continued to sort through at least half of the ornaments, and Grover kept making calls to people he forgot, and then the first pair of frazzled customers pushed in.

"Hey, um," the mom edged out. "Do you guys know how to wrap gifts?"

A few minutes later, Grover had to put his phone down to ring up a box of mints, a mug, and some hand sanitizer, and it was 10 am, when the serious rush poured in. They abandoned the straggly Christmas tree to help out their customers with picking out terrible gifts and listening to their excuses and directing elderly grandmas with heavy cookbooks in hand. It was so easy to snap into the motions, it disturbed Percy a little. He had to set his scanner aside from time to time in order to restock the snow globe and liquor shelves, and sometimes one of the Stolls roped him over to the cashier and the open drawer of wrapping paper.

He just kept his head low, skittering back and forth on the commands of all the customers, swallowing his yawns, and distantly thought about how this holiday was just ruining things for everyone, except Pike's pocket, and where could he get the money for another high. Swallowing down the thoughts were reflexive, but he was too tired to spend that kind of energy on his thinking anymore

One of his nightmares, though it was more of a flashback, had really jarred him. Maybe it was his antidepressants, maybe it was his desperation, but he didn't have highs to keep the bad memories away. Except remembering his first time, he didn't think of it as a bad memory. Yes, thinking of Reyna leaving and the heart-aching mess left with Rachel, that wasn't something he wanted to rehash. Yes, some part of him was feeling like wailing "NOOOO" like a frustrated moviegoer watching the stupid girl go into the basement inside a horror film. But he wasn't thinking about that, he didn't think about anything else, he was just filled with the taste of using.

Now that Percy was taking the time to think about it, as he was restocking bottles of Merlot, he never tasted heroin before. Some people swallowed it, but it was reputed to be extremely bitter, and the high came much later. He didn't want to wait, he was scared of what would happen if he had to, scared of looking back.

And now that he was on the other side, being sober, he was looking back at using. It was so stupid.

"Percy?" The last few customers were hurrying and protesting for more time, and the snow outside was thoroughly dirtied. The winter sun burned as it leaked beneath the horizon. Percy glanced at the clock. They were closing up late, like they always did on holidays, thumbing through the money and leaving the tree to wait for New Year's.

That would've been nice and all, except there was a party Grover was insistent they made it on time to. He was tightly clutching the precious bottle of vanilla extract, and power-walked like a dieting middle-aged mom to their apartment. The Stolls loosely lingered behind them, their minds clearly made up already.

"Harvey!" Grover sang up down the hallway, like his neighbors weren't disgruntled enough from all the knocking over and shrieking from last night. "It's time to make the brownies!"

Harvey surveyed them all from Grover's doorway with a frown. "Thank you," he said slowly, taking the bottle. But he remained standing in the doorway. "It's just that," he cleared his throat. "I'm used to cooking alone. And I don't want you guys stealing food." And he closed the door.

They gawped at each other. Grover took a few minutes to recover before fumbling for a key. "Harvey, come on, we're not going to eat any!"

Connor pushed forward to sweet-talk him, but Harvey's soft footsteps were already padding away and they heard some cupboards opening. Grover yanked up the welcome carpet, but he gave the spare key to Harvey.

"I can't believe you just got outsmarted by him," Travis said flatly. Grover crossed his arms.

Connor leaned his shoulder against the doorway. "Shouldn't you invite Katie? She could just come over now."

Travis scowled. "I'm not talking to someone who names an innocent boy after a stupid flower."

Grover looked offended, but his peace-making instincts won over. "You know, maybe we should also get something last-minute. Are we really showing up with only brownies?"

"If we're using your money," Connor said as Travis opened his mouth, clearly about to say that too.

"Fine!" Grover harrumphed. "What are we doing to kill time?"

"Play games," Travis said with a shrug.

"Wait." Connor held up his hands. "I'm curious. Who's your friend?" He studied him, his eyes flickering with amusement.

He wondered if Connor was asking about his dealing. Honestly, he didn't expect to have any friends out of that circle either. And he didn't exactly want to be describing Hazel to them like he knew her well. He'd honestly met her once. "Actually, it's not really that. Someone just brought it up, and it's a potluck so everyone's welcome. Christmas spirit and all that."

"Except it's a high-end party." Connor leaned against the hallway. "Why are we welcome?"

Percy pushed a hand through his hair. "It's not a dealer." He felt an awkward smile rising. "I don't know, but it's not fancy, I think." He didn't really know, and Connor's questions were pushing up all his doubts. He knew Hazel was an elementary teacher, and Leo's car shop did well but it wasn't a highly profitable job. But on the other end, Jason designed airplanes, and Annabeth worked at a mostly exclusive, rather expensively designed counseling company. It wasn't a group where a minimum-wage and ex-dealer/grocer fit in. He had a steady paycheck, but he really didn't match up. And well, even if he couldn't say they weren't as messed up as they, they all seemed so well-recovered, moving on like nothing in the world could stop them. Piper and Leo weren't really Problem Children.

_Except Leo sometimes burns things,_ a voice reminded him. He felt his conscious simmering inside him. _And he feels pain. And you don't know about anyone else. _

"Percy?" Grover edged out cautiously.

He blinked. He felt like he was fading in and out with his tiredness. "Why aren't we playing games?"

"Sure." Travis was the first to sit down on the carpet and pulled out his phone. "Call of Duty?"

"No, you guys should check out Death to Poachers!" Grover protested.

Percy checked his battery. 30 percent. Not bad. He sat down beside Travis. "Sorry, G-man."

Connor was cackling a little under his breath, his eyes racing across the screen, until Travis elbowed him and he stopped laughing but kept scrolling down something. Percy was only glad he was on the same side as them. A few virtual players popped up, and ignoring Grover's angry stomp to the other wall, they plunged into the new round.

Juniper showed up a few minutes later and raised her eyebrows but didn't say anything. She pulled out her own spare key and matter-of-factly entered Grover's apartment. The rest of them were too immersed in gaming to react, but Percy lunged for the door because he was so bored, and the smell of baking brownies immediately shifted into the hallway.

Juniper shut the door at Harvey's frantic gesturing, but Percy had already gone inside. Unfortunately, the batter was busy bubbling and heating up in the oven. Harvey was clearing hiding a little grin. "Hey, we should be able to go to the party prepared now. Is Annabeth coming with us?"

Juniper turned too with a raised eyebrow. "I'm also looking forward to meeting this girl."

He paused. "Actually, we didn't talk about it. I think we'll be on the subway at the same time."

"She's not picking you up?" Harvey asked with obvious disappointment.

Percy gestured them. "With all the people coming, and Chris and Clarisse, we're not going to fit in her car. And I don't know how much stuff she's bringing."

"You should call her," Harvey added his next bright suggestion, and Juniper laughed a little as she cleared up the kitchen.

He did not want Harvey eavesdropping and making new impressions of him, and Grover's apartment was too small for privacy. "Fine," he said, and headed outside to their disappointment (he shouldn't have been surprised Juniper wanted to eavesdrop too, Grover must've told her all sorts of things) while the other guys slipped inside and ran for the kitchen. "There's batter in the bowl!" was the last thing Percy heard as he went to the stairwell. No one took the stairs anyway.

Annabeth picked up on the fifth ring. He heard cheery Christmas music, the whining of her dogs, and her oven whirring lowly in the back. Her blast of optimism and excitement almost glowed inside the dim stairs. "Percy, hey! Merry Christmas."

"Right." He felt a little like sighing, because he was wasn't really for all this but also so content at talking with her again. "Look, I'm just calling to get away from everyone else."

"Too much holiday spirit?" she asked amusedly. She paused sometimes while speaking, like she was in the middle of something else.

"No, they're just normally this annoying."

Annabeth burst out laughing and had to force herself to take deep breaths. "I know what you mean. Piper came over to help get my apartment ready for the afterparty, except now that we're done, she's editing her Spotify playlist." She set something down on her kitchen counter, or so Percy guessed.

And of course Piper would play her music out loud, even if it annoyed Annabeth.

"I have been meaning to ask. I know the holidays can….be difficult. How are you?"

He shrugged, and then remembered she couldn't see. "It's not difficult." _Yet. _He had no doubt everyone would be beaming and filled with the joys of giving or whatever at the party. "I'm fine. I'm feeling a little better now. No runny nose, not a lot of soreness, oh, and I'm not throwing up food."

"That's all amazing. The things we get to be grateful for, right?" He raised his eyebrows, and she laughed a little breathily. "Sorry, I shouldn't be throwing platitudes at you. I am really glad about this. But it's not the worst part."

He chuckled bitterly. "No, really? But actually, I'm dealing with it all pretty well. You know, Harvey also came to Grover's place last night, and I actually slept well, and they're keeping me busy today."

Suddenly, something occurred to him. He was occupied with calling Annabeth, but the stairs led outside. And outside was that little room in the basement and his dealer. He found his feet walking on their own account across the landing, close to the first step down. His breath hitched.

"Percy? Percy? Percy Jackson, you better just be talking to someone else—" Annabeth's voice, spiked with fear, crashed through his haze. He slowly brought his phone back to his ear. "No. I'm fine." He wanted his voice to crinkle casually, to flow out smoothly, but it wasn't working. He heard the music stop, and Piper asked, "Annabeth? What happened to him?"

"Why don't you answer that for yourself." There was a beep, and he was probably on speaker. Percy swallowed. "Sorry. I spaced out. I'm a little tired."

There was some murmuring, and then footsteps that were probably Piper's heading away. "Then we'll finish up earlier. And I know, you still can't sleep, but it should help."

His nightmares slipped into his mind. "Thanks." His toe rubbed against the edge of the stair, but he was afraid Annabeth would hear if he moved. "Oh, right, Harvey wanted to ask if you're coming with us."

"Are you sure it's him asking?" He imagined her smiling, and slowly pulled his foot back.

"Yes. Grover invited a ton of people, and we'll only fit on the subway."

"It is a pretty dull drive," she mused. "I think Piper will love taking it low-key for once."

"My boyfriend is showing up in a freaking Corvette!" she yelled in the distance.

Annabeth laughed again. "Yeah, so why not. I'll have to carry my baking dish then, but I'm guessing Juniper's doing the same."

"No, it's actually Harvey. He's the only person that can cook at my place."

"He shares that with Leo, definitely. Except Leo pretty much sticks to tacos."

"He always puts too much hot sauce in mine!" Piper commented again.

"Pipes, this is a one-way call. Save your eagerness to talk to Percy for the ride, please." Her voice moved closer. "Well, I'm really looking forward to meeting everyone."

He paused for a moment and decided to come out with it. "Don't say anything weird." She could probably handle herself around Grover because they made up and everything, but he wasn't sure about Clarisse. He didn't even dare to imagine if she ever met Reyna.

"I would never," she exclaimed, pretending to be offended.

He nodded, even though she couldn't see. "I'll see you soon."

"Yeah. Piper, why don't you come say goodbye."

"Bye, Percy, it was nice chatting," Piper said with a laugh in her voice.

When she hung up and it was all quiet in the stairwell, he stared back down at the step. It seemed to loom huge in his eyes. In the back of his mind, the small ticking clock started counting minutes he had, how much money he would need, the ability he had to reemerge unaffected. It was always there, he just rarely dwelt on it. At that moment, it wasn't affecting him, but he let himself listen to the numbers, the clockwork clicking, running again and again.

And then footsteps thudded up the stairs, and he jumped, and he thought it might be Annabeth, but a dark head was striding straight up to him.

"Why are you standing here?" Katie asked curiously.

"Um." He honestly didn't think Travis would call. Maybe Connor used his phone. And he was just plain surprised she climbed the stairs. "Good connection?" He held up his phone.

She rolled her eyes at his flimsy excuse. "Sure. I'm going to find my lousy husband now." She said that almost affectionately, and Percy just nodded. His mother's manners-training made him reach for the heavy door to the hallway, but Katie grabbed the handle first and pulled it open a lot more smoothly than he would be able to. Percy had to make it up somehow and stood back, gesturing for her to go through, so rolling her eyes again, she stepped out first with her arm on the door and pushed it back when he left.

Percy was still wondering how Travis got such a nice, sweet, and slightly stubborn girl to marry him. He could not for the life of him even imagine what she liked about him. "Which one is Grover's apartment?"

He pointed, hoping the door wasn't locked. His eyes lingered over the droll bib stuffed in her pocket and a pacifier in another. "Where's Corey?"

Katie turned. "Oh, right, he got left with you guys last time. Sorry about that, I was hoping Travis would do the work. My younger sister's watching him. Not sure if she's exactly equipped with babies, but it just takes some practice." She also looked down at her pockets. "Oops. I don't think I'm properly dressed for a party."

He didn't even think about changing out of his musty hoodie, and he didn't remember when he last washed his jeans. "Oh. Me neither."

She laughed. "Like you need to." Before he could ask what that meant, Katie headed inside Grover's apartment. Her eyes grew wide. "It smells good in here." She beelined for the kitchen, but paused by the row of Grover's pollutant-absorbing or apartment-cleaning, Percy kept forgetting, plants. "Do you not have any water? And there's so much sunlight over there!" She immediately gathered the pots in her arms and hiked over to his living room window, and then started filling his metal watering can.

Harvey lifted the last piece of brownie from his skillet into a container and snapped on the lid. "We're ready to go, should we find Chris?"

Katie pushed the guys off the couch and rolled her eyes for the third time when she saw they were playing Mario Kart. Juniper hurriedly looked away before anyone saw her animatedly tracking the karts.

"Do you guys have everything?" Katie asked tiredly. Grover suddenly realized something and ran into the other room, and Percy shouldered his bag of cranes.

"You're getting pretty good at being a mom," Connor teased before shutting up at her arched eyebrow.

They found Chris and Clarisse leaving Percy's building, and Chris was wearing a ghastly striped sweater that proved how rarely he went to a party to, well, party, so Percy decided to let it go. Their strange procession moved on towards the subway station, the Stolls cracking stupid jokes in the back, Harvey guarding the brownies with his life, Grover complaining he was hungry, and Percy had to shield his eyes—Clarisse walking hand-in-hand with Chris. There was a bit of a scuffle with other disgruntled New Yorkers when they crowded around all the ticket machines, but finally they were in the station and Percy saw a familiar someone striding towards them. There were little flakes of snow in Annabeth's hair, and her cheeks were flushed from the cold. Again, he was reminded of those stupid romance movies where someone was boarding a train to another country and, well, he really needed more sleep.

Piper was a few steps behind her but moved at the same speed. They both stopped for a moment. "Um, I welcome everyone, of course, but Cecil's apartment isn't very big. It's around 50 feet. And I don't know how many other people are coming already," Annabeth hedged.

Piper just waved at Grover and introduced herself and Annabeth, who shrugged and grinned at Percy. "I really didn't think you would come," she said softly, so no one could overhear. "I almost can't believe it."

He wished he wasn't proving her wrong, but he was also really glad to be in basking in her presence. "Well, I'm here."

She grinned and pulled a coffee cup from her bag. "It's made from recycled paper," she said, winking at Grover. "I'm going to say hi to everyone else, enjoy."

Ignoring Harvey and the Stolls' intrigued stares, he turned and pried off the lid. An "e" was intricately drawn in the curls of blue cappuccino foam. He sipped, and felt the caffeine run through his neurons in relief.

A shriek echoed down the tunnel, and they all turned to see the subway thundering over. All of their conversation was washed out by the noise and then the mad dash for seats. They were scattered around the train, and Grover was forced to stand with Katie, who shrugged and said, "You lose all special privileges after you give birth." Blushing a little, Travis offered up his seat, but she refused. She did climb all those stairs seemingly for fun anyway.

Annabeth was stuck sitting across from Percy, and she didn't mind leaning over, except everyone between them would hear anything she said. "I got to say hi to Harvey in person." He was bench away, uncomfortably squished between a bodybuilder/trainer guy and Connor. "He's great. I get it now."

Percy exhaled a little. "Yeah. I told him," he said softly.

Annabeth raised her eyebrows and grinned. "Okay, that's something big off your chest."

_There was a lot more left, _he thought distantly. "Yeah, I feel a lot lighter," he said, because people always said that. He drank more coffee.

"I didn't spend much time with Clarisse," she admitted. "But I'd really like to talk with her. Not about you," she said at his expression.

He felt a little jilted, but he decided not to dwell on that. "Good luck getting her to listen."

Her smile came back up again and she shook her head. "I got you to talk, and that's a lot for me."

He sat back and gave her a small smile, and they sat in silence until they got to the right station. It was a busy station, and it was awkward maneuvering everyone through the turnstiles, but they managed to line up neatly and climb out. Percy's pulse reappeared as they surveyed the streets around them, Annabeth being the first to head down one and cross the road. Percy steadfastly ignored all the cars and followed at her tail. They headed to the gates of a neighborhood, and a Ford pickup truck with a…minifridge in the back pulled up at the same as them.

Leo whooped from the window. "Yo! It's all of Percy's friends and my little bro and Beauty Queen! Pile up!"

Calypso leaned over to wave and say, "Hi Annabeth," elbowing Leo as she did so. Harvey was ushered in to sit on the front bench while the rest found their places around the minifridge. The guard raised an eyebrow at them but didn't comment after Annabeth told him Cecil's address.

"What food did you guys bring?" Leo asked eagerly while Calypso searched for the right building.

"Some brownies," Grover piped up, and Annabeth hoisted her dish. "Scalloped potatoes and garlic bread."

Of course Annabeth would pick something Percy had never heard of. She smirked at him and leaned in to whisper, "The figgy pudding didn't work out." Leo gaped at them in the rearview mirror. "That's it? I thought the rest of you would have some more!"

Piper leaned over, and Percy felt a sudden burst of gratitude at being saved. "My tofurkey sandwiches are with Jason." She peered down the street. "Yep, there's his car."

Leo groaned for maybe three minutes flat. "Those are Thanksgiving leftovers!"

"I'm sorry I don't cook," she said with a shrug, and hopped out as soon as the pickup truck came to a stop. Juniper's jaw dropped at the size of the basket Calypso was carrying and scrambled to hold one side. Harvey was studying the truck's engine for some reason and the Stolls had disappeared already and Leo shrieked "EEEEEEWWWWWWW" when Jason wrapped his arms around Piper's waist and kissed her. Annabeth just rolled her eyes and waved at others getting out of their cars and entered the open elevator. Thalia, a tanned guy with a tattooed bicep, and Dakota were already in there and moved back up against the walls when Calypso's basket was squeezed through the doorway. Leo was dragging Harvey away from the mechanics and lunged for the already-crowded elevator when the doors closed, and they went up a floor in awkward silence.

Then Thalia squirmed around to throw her arms around Annabeth, and Dakota peered at the tan guy with his bloodshot eyes. "Michael Kahale? What are you doing in New York?"

"What are you doing in New York?" he asked back, looking amused. Percy finally was able to see his tattoo was of a dove. Dakota didn't answer and spun around. "You! You—you're Percy, right?"

"Yeah," he said simply.

"Why are you here?" he doubled back in confusion. Percy rolled his eyes and was about to turn around when Dakota slurred, "And where's Reyna?"

Percy felt his throat close up. Everyone was staring at him. "In California."

Dakota squinted in deeper confusion while Annabeth suddenly glanced away. "Where's your gang of besties?" she teased Thalia.

"They ditched me when I was parking. I don't know why, but Tso's sirens have a different system than me."

"Then don't drive with them on!" Annabeth said in exasperation. The door dinged open, and the hallway already smelled like food. A few neighbors were surreptitiously peering out at them from behind their doors and the other elevator was emptying its occupants. Lou Ellen waved, holding a Saran-wrapped bowl of mac and cheese, and another Hunter stepped out in her full uniform and blushed at the sight of Thalia, and the last person Percy could recognize was Jake Mason, clearly wondering why he was here. They were all carrying food, and Percy tucked his hands in his pockets.

Annabeth knocked, and Miranda opened the door. A quick grin burst from her when she saw Percy. She hugged the people she knew, draped their coats on the nearby furniture, and pointed in the direction of the kitchen. Percy realized he should've taken Annabeth's concerns to heart. There was hardly breathing room only inside the apartment, and the noise of the conversation entirely drowned out music from the speakers and "The Grinch" on TV, and Percy still had to dodge plates and pointy utensils as his eyes strained to find Annabeth in front of him. A few seconds later, someone formidably pushed through the crowd, yelling, "Annabeth and Calypso are here?"

It was Hazel, her hair rumpled and her apron thoroughly splattered with food. She turned to Annabeth. "Remind me, why did I choose to be in charge of the kitchen?"

Annabeth placed an arm around her shoulders. "It was your turn, you might as well. Look, we're here to help you know."

Calypso hoisted up her basket. "Anyone hungry?" she called out in her sharp, clear voice. A literal wave of people dove towards her.

"The food goes in the kitchen!" Hazel yelled helplessly as she handed out piece after piece of baked goods. Annabeth forged ahead, and right before the kitchen was a small dining table. Percy's jaw dropped

Appetizers, crock-pots of soup, a ton of salads, opened takeout boxes, whole glazed hams, little finger foods in spoons, and a bakery's worth of dessert was piled on top of the table. A few sets of plates and silverware on the chairs were continuously getting snatched up as the mountain shrank a little every few seconds.

"Oh, right!" Calypso was behind them somehow again, and she lifted out another prettily-painted set. "Wedding gift," she explained. "And I'm guessing it's not the only one," she gestured at all the other gaudy matching plates.

Annabeth was already deftly pulling out dishes like it was a game of Jenga and rearranging everything. "This was about to fall over. There's no support structure, all the weight's falling to that thermos of soup…," she continued murmuring to no one in particular.

Hazel had already raced into the kitchen. There was a tall stack of dishes clustered around the microwave, something rising before Percy's eyes as the oven's timer ticked, and a few pots bubbling on the stove. "I'm mostly heating up things, but I don't know, I think it was Katie's sibling that just handled me a bag of fresh vegetables he grew himself. It's a huge bag," she said, pointing to the sack on the floor, "so I'm throwing together a salad." Juniper grinned and helped her chop up the rest, even scrapped together a spinach veggie dip, and carried it all outside. Calypso nodded and expertly poked around. "Why are you baking cookies?"

"Someone brought raw cookie dough! What else do I do with it?"

Calypso laughed. "Honestly, I had no idea what to make of it either when it appeared on a baking blog, but it's supposed to be edible."

"Oh."

They noticed Percy raising his eyebrows at them and Calypso put him on microwave duty. He microwaved cinnamon rolls, Szechuan stir-fry, and some noodles when Calypso shrieked at him it was a salad. Calypso poured out the soups into a set of ceramic bowls with baby Cupids at the bottom, which they all cringed at, and Hazel said she could handle the last two.

"What inside?"

Hazel smiled bittersweetly. "Red beans and rice." Calypso nodded and lifted out the tray of cookies. She looked at Percy, who was confused at what was inside the next dish and pretending he wasn't curious.

"My mom always made it on Christmas," she explained. "Most have it for breakfast, but we just had one meal for the day." She set down her spoon, unlocked a cupboard, and lifted out a bottle of rum. Percy thought she was about to pour herself a glass. "This is for bananas foster, which we had at a diner." She grinned at a little at his expression. "The alcohol burns away because it's on fire."

He didn't think he looked any less shocked as Calypso shook her head. "Leo loves that part."

Frank suddenly loomed in the kitchen. "Leo loves who?"

"No one," Calypso said hurriedly. "Now that you're here, take out these pots and these cookies." Annabeth was deeply immersed in structuring everything and took the pots without looking, and Harvey finally squeezed into the kitchen. "I have some brownies," he said, offering the tray to Hazel. He studied the kitchen. "Can I help out?"

"Why don't you take over microwave duty," Calypso suggested, because it turns out the last dish was an almond pudding. It wasn't Percy's fault, since it was located right next to the microwave anyway. He stepped back and offered a bowl of mashed potatoes to Harvey.

Hazel peered into one pot and bit her lip. "I think some rice has stuck to the bottom." She immediately set about scraping it up, and when Calypso finished placing Piper's admittedly a little sad-looking tofurkey sandwiches in the line for the microwave, she noticed Percy standing around. It took some rummaging in Cecil's mostly-bare kitchen, but she found another apron and rubber gloves. "Some of the dishes are empty now. Can you help wash up?"

He didn't seem to have much choice in the matter, but he didn't mind, so he stood between Hazel's bunch of ripe bananas and the stove and started scrubbing. It was nice to have an excuse to not eat, at least, up until he finished washing and Annabeth made him pick something out, but then he remembered why he hated manual labor. His mind didn't hesitate in drifting.

He suddenly noticed a few wallets lying unclaimed on chairs, the tarnished silver inside one of the wedding sets, even a trampled bill on the floor. He didn't want to steal, he never had much opportunity or time to dwell on morality, what was stealing or not. He could make out the face on the bill, and he knew what he could buy with it. Maybe not a lot, but tolerance rates went down after a period of sobriety, right? Suddenly, he didn't really care about whatever facts Annabeth or those waiting room pamphlets had about his addiction. It was a personal part of him, embedded in his flesh, another organ keeping his body running, a siren call to echo behind every sound. What did statistics know about him? He could just excuse himself to go to the bathroom, pick up the dollar bill while he knelt to tie his shoelaces, take the elevator down, travel the subway stations until he found the right one, down the roads, into the basement, pass out the money, let a small packet burn into his palm, take the tiny white granules through the steps he knew as well as walking: wet with water-heat on spoon-pour into tube, press the sharp point of the needle inside him, and catch his breath.

Hazel wandered over to him to grab a plate from the drying rack and smiled as he loaded the first batch of plates into the dishwasher. "You look like you're thinking about something intense," she said lightly as she scooped red beans and rice from the pots.

He blinked several times, which was probably suspicious, but Hazel wasn't looking at him like he was a suspect. Which no one did, but he still felt it when someone knew about his drug habit. "No, not really. That smells good."

She smiled a little. "It tastes burnt, but it's alright." She chopped up some cilantro and served it on two small plates and then a big wedding-gift platter with the rest, which Annabeth snapped out of her stupor to hold extra-carefully. Hazel then began peeling some bananas.

"The spectacle's starting soon, I see," Calypso said, leaning against the kitchen counter and eating from her piled plate. "Percy, you can grab some food too."

He quickly gestured to the rest of the plates. "I'll just wash these so the next people can use them."

Calypso shrugged and hid a grin. "Hardworking," she murmured softly to Hazel. "Of course Annabeth found him."

He wished he didn't overhear that, because then he was overanalyzing that one sentence. What was that supposed to mean? And if only Calypso knew the actual reason he was doing all the dishes.

"Dude, these tofurkey sandwiches are so good!" Grover raved. "Where's Piper?"

Leo was in the middle of loading five more tacos onto his own Cupid-patterned serving platter instead of a plate. "Probably doing something horrible with Superman by the windows."

Percy could easily pick out Jason's short blond hair across the room. "They're just standing and talking." Grover spun around in search of the recipe while Leo gagged.

Thalia wandered back for some ice cream and pie, a familiar Hunter at her elbow, and he distractedly noticed their uniforms were a little ill-fitting. Calypso was in the middle of mopping up some curry with her sourdough bread and looked like she was about to throw the hard crust at Atlas. "You finally bothered to come find me?"

Atlas shrank a little. "Thalia told you we were up here already; you could've looked for me yourself."

"I was busy eating!" She set down her plate and Percy was a little scared of what she would do, but she gripped Atlas in a hug. "Seriously, sis, you just get skinnier and skinnier every time I see you. I told you Thalia and the Hunters wouldn't feed you enough."

Percy's head shot up. Atlas had blond hair like Calypso, but even so, it was a lighter shade, and striated with dark streaks. They didn't seem very close, either. Calypso looked over at his expression. "Oh, Percy, this is my sister Lipara. Thalia didn't make the introductions?"

Thalia tried to shrug casually. "We were occupied with other things when they met."

Calypso swatted Lipara with a dishrag, which probably hurt coming from Calypso. "You didn't bother to mention me?"

"I thought Annabeth would've told him!" Lipara protested.

They all turned to Annabeth, who was taking a break too and assembling a plate full of things Percy couldn't name. Her eyes grew wide, like an owl's. "We were dealing with a stabbing."

"Nope, that was my excuse, Annie." Thalia said with a smirk.

"Thalia didn't even mention her first name because she thinks she's in a cop show," Annabeth retorted.

Calypso rolled her eyes. "It's fine. I know Lipara never wants to mention her sisters at her new job."

Lipara raised her eyebrows, her shoulders still tense.

"It's a nice job," Calypso said enviously. "Fighting crime and avoiding horribly immature husbands."

Annabeth covered up her snort but Lipara shook her head. "It's not that. I always made fun of Zoë for joining, and well, of course we have Lieutenant Grace now, but I need to make it up to her."

"Don't ever dream of stealing my spot," Thalia said, placing an arm around her shoulders, "but I think she would be happy you joined."

"I didn't know her, or you," she inclined her head towards Calypso, "for very long, so I'll just have to take your word for it, Lieutenant."

"Percy," Annabeth remarked. "Did you have anything yet?"

Hazel paused in the middle of stirring brown sugar in her pan. "No, he didn't."

"Yeah, I was just finishing up these dishes." There were only two left in the sink, and Annabeth wasn't going to buy another other excuse. "Also, I don't want to miss the fire."

"Oh, right, I've got to grab Leo or he'll be mad he didn't get a front-row spot." Calypso went outside, still holding her plate.

Thalia grinned. "And I'll make the announcement when it's on fire, Hazel."

She stirred the bananas in the pan and pulled the bottle of rum closer to her. She gave Percy a small smile. "I don't exactly like doing performances, but here it is."

"Wait!" Leo shrieked as he fought to part a hole in the crowd. Thalia chose that moment to climb onto a chair and boom, "PAY ATTENTION," and there was the sound of a plate dropping onto carpet as everyone turned to look. Percy squinted into the crowd and saw Connor's familiar curly head next to…. Lou Ellen?

Hazel unscrewed the lid and gently poured in the rum. They all waited, their breaths held, and a fire suddenly erupted over the bananas. It flickered a vivid blue, hungrily dancing over the pan. There was clapping and yelling and some gasps. "And for the centerpiece," she murmured to Percy, she tapped a little bit of cinnamon into her hand and tossed it into the flames. They sparked into cinders and shooting-starred into the bubbling pan, and everyone gave appreciative oohs.

Frank pressed into the kitchen beaming, hugging her from behind, and she immediately pushed him away from the flaming pan as she held it aloft, which Percy had to admit was really sweet. The fire slowly flickered out, and Leo let out an extremely disappointed, "Awwwwwwww."

Hazel let the bananas simmer a little longer, since Leo said (and Annabeth could support this) alcohol took a while to burn off fully, and grabbed another carton of vanilla ice cream from the freezer. It was a little anticlimactic, because it had to sit on the stovetop for at least half an hour, while Hazel and Frank quietly ate their bowls of red beans and rice together, and Percy scrubbed the last plate with utmost carefulness before picking up an drying one and grabbing a small cheeseburger Annabeth found for him and a Coke from the fridge. She'd rummaged around Cecil's packed drawers for some blue dye, but out of all the craziest, most useless things she'd found, there wasn't any food coloring, and he didn't want to bother with the charade.

He told Annabeth to hang out with Thalia and picked out a slightly less crowded spot, which he discovered was the foyer. He sat down and leaned against the shoe closet, wondering how long it would take for someone to find him asleep. The doorbell rang, and he listened to it distantly when an arm reached out from inside the closet all of a sudden, and the door opened. Nico and a few other latecomers straggled in, while Percy could only stare at the shoe closet until he realized someone was making out in there. Nico straightened his black coat and surveyed the apartment pensively.

Percy forced himself to his feet and set his plate on top of the shoe closet. "You made it." He mustered a bleak smile and took the coats, and the strangers pushed past them without a second glance.

"Yeah. That's a lot of people," he said flatly.

"Uh-uh." He stood there with a heavy mound of coats in his arm.

Someone else leaned out from behind Percy. "Hey!" Will beamed his smile, which glowed with like a million blinding megawatts. "Thanks for inviting us!"

Percy saw an incoming hug and was wondering how to dodge out of it when Nico grumbled, "I'm hungry" and wandered off for the kitchen, and Will had to begrudgingly follow him. Nico probably wasn't being nice on purpose, but Percy decided to sit back down. He made himself eat in tiny bites, but tasting it suddenly made him realize his appetite and he swallowed the rest down a lot faster. He was kind of hungry. The physical effects were probably just sitting back so the mental ones could hit harder, but at that point he was too focused on getting seconds and some dessert.

Hazel had finally lifted the bananas off from the heat and put two scoops of ice cream inside the bowl, and as one of the new guests, he was given a small piece. The tang of alcohol made his stomach spin a little, but it was sweet and creamy and apparently the rum was spiced. "It's not really the same as the diner, I only found this recipe online," Hazel was explaining to all the foodies asking her about it. "But I've gotten better at making this over time."

Annabeth refused to spend the whole time hanging out with Thalia and did make Percy introduce Nico to her. It was a little tiring to straighten up and not look too gloomy around her, but he still didn't mind.

"Nico." Percy cleared his throat. Nico was in the middle of picking apart a Happy Meal next to Will and momentarily tensed before turning around.

"Hello." His eyes slide to Annabeth, and then he raised his dark eyebrows questioningly at Percy.

Annabeth waved. "Hello, Nico."

Percy didn't want to hesitate before her. "Nico, this is Annabeth. My friend."

Nico nodded slowly. He glanced at Annabeth again but didn't say anything about their relationship. "Nice to meet you, Annabeth." Will's eyebrows shot up and he wiggled them. Percy really hoped Annabeth didn't see that.

"I know a little bit about your relationship," Annabeth began. "Are you guys close?'

Percy immediately shot eye-daggers at her while Will covered a grin. Nico's dark eyes remained on her face for a moment. "Sure."

"That's nice." She smiled. "Then will we be seeing each other more?" She turned to Percy.

"If I have anything to do with it, no." He gave her an obvious stare.

"I'm glad I saw you this time, then," Annabeth responded cheerfully. Thalia suddenly came up behind them and slung an arm around Annabeth's shoulders.

"Did you play nice with Annie, cuz?"

Nico looked affronted. "Is this your best friend?"

Percy squinted. "You guys are related?" A long time ago, a social worker caught them for a few moments and took their blood samples. Only Percy heard the result that he and Nico might've shared some strange DNA. Did that mean…Thalia was also his….? He didn't finish the thought.

"Yeah!" Thalia smooshed her face next to Nico, who hurriedly drew away. "Don't we look alike?"

"A lot alike," Will agreed.

Nico crossed his arms. "I only found out recently."

"And your life was a forever changed," Thalia sang.

Percy stiffened, because he was the one who knew what happened when Nico changed from a little boy to him today, so he smiled and disappeared for some food.

He spent the rest of his time sipping some Indian yogurt known as lassi that was almost completely snatched away when the few jugs were discovered in the fridge and watching the intense video game match between Leo and Frank on the new video game consoles Leo had cobbled together in a few minutes.

Eventually it was past dinnertime, and all the latecomers were eagerly stuffed, so Jason, Annabeth, Juniper, and a lot of people who wanted free dinners attacked the leftovers, stacking some into Cecil's fridge and Leo's minifridge (which Jake Mason carried up for him), neatly boxing the rest in either glass or compostable paper boxes under Juniper's watch. Grover was cramming as enchiladas into his bag as possible with the rest of his mystery things as possible, and Percy and Harvey picked out a few pieces of lasagna, some chocolate cake because why not, Annabeth's potatoes, and Leo's tacos for later.

"It's party time!" Leo announced when he tired of all the cleaning, grabbing Calypso's basket and pushing them all to leave. Cecil was at the door now, waving at everyone leaving like a good host, so Percy and Grover made sure to first find everyone who was invited by them, though finding the Stolls was a bit of a challenge, and Juniper and Grover spent a long time saying goodbye in the hallway because she didn't want to "crash the afterparty."

Thalia got to sit in the Corvette with Jason and Harvey asked to ride with Leo and Calypso, so Percy watched him go with only minimal stinginess. Frank and Hazel got there by hitching a ride with one of Frank's archery friends, so they joined the rest heading for the subway. The trains were a little emptier at this hour, filled with a rather motley crew (minus them) of late-shifts mall Santas, drug addicts, harried businessmen running late to family dinners, and some shabbily-dressed people who looked like they've been sleeping for stations and could not be bothered by the security guards at this point. Piper amusedly chatted with Grover on being vegetarian, Hazel leaned her head on Frank's chest and clutched her bag of special Creole spicing, and Percy absentmindedly folded cranes as Annabeth gazed out the windows, probably thinking about something deep or other.

When they arrived at Annabeth's apartment, he had déjà vu that he was coming home after a trip and ready to fall asleep on the couch. Percy stopped in the doorway. The people in cars had already gotten there before them, so the lights were on, and there was the smell of hot chocolate and popcorn, and the dogs Fitzwilliam, Josephine, and Andromeda were all over them, and there were a ton of comfy owl-patterned blankets around the couch. There wasn't a lot of decoration, just some intricately painted glass ornaments on a potted pine tree sapling and stockings for all her pets over her oven and paper snowflakes on her windows. And then there was the bowl of gingerbread cookies and candy canes that Leo had already half worked his way through. Grover immediately got in on the action before they would all disappear, and even Jason was sucking the end of a candy cane in the loveseat.

He realized Annabeth had not entered her place yet. She waved at him to go on ahead. "I have to call my dad," she said quietly.

Percy felt something sour in his throat. There was another breakdown looming up behind him, all the lies he'd used threatening to spill through. Didn't his mom teach him to be a good little boy? But he was experienced enough with it that he convinced the two people he talked to every day that he was fine. _Why did they listen to him? _

He didn't sleep last night, he was standing sentinel over Harvey and Grover's bodies, trying to leave without stepping on them, and trying to build up his courage to search them for the key. But he couldn't face them if they woke up. Percy eventually sat down at the Grover's sofa the apartment for other ways to break out, to grapple with his cravings, and he didn't want to think back to the things that passed through his mind then. Because withdrawal wasn't like retirement, he wasn't comfortably settling in, it wasn't treating him so well. He was used to being tired, and hunger was something he could go without. It was just the cravings that plagued him every time he stood still, and the depression that was no longer knocking at his door whenever he put down his needle, but that it had settled in long ago and made itself rather comfortable.

He croakily responded, "Good luck," as Annabeth's eyes flitted quickly over him and rushed in with the direction of Grover's waving. The latest breakdown churned acidly in his stomach, spilling glossy toxic waste across the low waves in his ocean, but he would be fine. He was swallowing this for a while now.

"Guys, there's mistletoe in the hallway," Piper announced cheerily and everyone froze in their steps.

Percy sat down on the couch, Fitz jumping up beside him, and Leo announced from the beanbag, "Movie voting starts in five seconds! Caly, you're going to miss it if you keep hanging around the kitchen!"

"The hot chocolate will burn!" she yelled back.

Leo shrugged. "Okay, so I'm thinking The Night Before Christmas, Home Alone, A Christmas Carol-the Disney version, of course—"

"Home Alone," Grover voted. "Except we should watch parodies."

"Christmas is for classics," Thalia retorted from the carpet.

"But they're funny!"

Calypso handed out the mugs with Harvey's help and set out a jar of marshmellows and some shaved chocolate. She left out the sprinkle of sugar in the mug meant for Annabeth but dropped some mini-marshmellows. There was the geometric set from Half-Blood Hill, and a few from colleges or organizations he'd never saw before. His own was the blue mug and Calypso somehow knew to put a generous lid of marshmellows.

Annabeth came back in a few moments later, sitting down on the couch on the other side of Fitzwilliam. She cleared her throat.

"I'm going to leaving early for a flight to San Francisco. Because I've been invited to give a lecture about psychology at a university. And I might as well visit family and have some Dutch Crunch bread again." Hazel shared wistful grins with her. "The latest flight I could find is at midnight, so I still have most of the evening with you all." She glanced at Percy for a brief moment.

Piper had come back midway and threw her arms around Annabeth. "We'll miss you."

She laughed. "I won't be gone for long. You guys can play some of the games Leo has found or feel free to crash here, on the couch or in the bedroom. Just please no wild partying, unless you clean up all traces." She grinned. "Alright, now for the gifts!" She and Piper went inside her room to grab their things, and other people began emptying their bags onto the carpet, and Grover was stuffing away his enchiladas before Leo could spring on them. Percy reached into his own bag and felt his fingers secure about something in the side pocket.

"Okay, remember, if anyone brings obligatory gifts, they're taking them back with them. I'm just glad everyone's here." And then she sat back, and a few peculiar smiles spread around the room.

Piper took a deep breath and turned to Jason. She glanced at Leo, who winked. And then she got out a small velvet box and handed it to Jason.

Jason slowly opened it and his jaw dropped. He held up a ring carved out of a strange, reddish material like it was made of diamond and would disappear before him any second. "Finally!" Thalia whooped. Piper then got off from the loveseat and knelt before him.

"Don't say anything!" Thalia yelled. "I have to film Jace crying to show my nieces and nephews!" Piper glared at her for a moment as she panned her phone camera around the room, Percy automatically ducking. Annabeth tried to swipe her phone away and eventually they both laid sprawled on the carpet, Thalia relenting to a few pictures.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Piper said, burying her face into her hands for a moment. "But at least I won't be forgetting our anniversary in the future, since you're the one with the steel trap memory." They shared a laugh. "And all of our friends would kill us if they missed it, and the anticipation was killing Mr. Valdez, and I'm going to lose my courage any moment, so I guess this is happening. We've done so much together. I thought I would never date a boy your stepmom set me up with. But you're not your parents. You're sweet, caring, strong, such a worrywart," she breathed out a teary, exasperated sigh, "and I don't know how but you have a really good heart no one else has been able to match up to." Her voice was getting scratchy with emotion. "You're a freaking role model. And you've always stepped back and let me lead with you, and I want us to stand side-by-side. I'm scared we're not ready, and there's still things to work though, and I can't begin to imagine how much this will change us, but," she breathed out. "I can't spend the rest of my life with someone else. Jason, will you marry me?"

He finally managed to close his mouth and knelt down with her. "Oui," he whispered, and Leo snorted as they stood up. She slid on his ring and he folded her fingers with his. "I should've known you would beat me to the chase."

She leaned her forehead against his. "No, I should've realized you wanted me to show how I feel. I spent two hours carving that ring. I love you, Superman," and she touched her lips to his.

"Ew ew ew ew!" Thalia yelled, turning around to bury her face in the sofa. Leo was about to have a similar reaction but Calypso shoved him. Annabeth and Hazel were clapping and Grover was taking notes on Piper's speech and Frank couldn't hide his sniffling.

Meanwhile, Percy no longer felt steady, sitting down the couch in a sudden flood of emotion. He couldn't believe he was invited to probably the most momentous occasion in the lives of two people he hardly knew. It was like crashing a wedding. He felt so happy for them both and so self-conscious and guilty and then annoyed that he couldn't just enjoy a blissful moment when Jason approached him, arms wide. He couldn't refuse him and was crushed into his smooth, hard chest. A little woozy from near suffocation by some seriously defined pecs, Percy mumbled, "Congratulations, man" and lightly patted his back.

Jason pulled back, unable to suppress his huge grin that threatened to crack his face in half any moment. "Thank you! You're coming to the wedding, Jackson. I don't know why Annabeth hadn't introduced us to you any sooner." He leaned in to whisper into Percy's ear. "I know Piper wanted you to be here, and I'm really glad you made it." He squeezed his shoulder before moving on to Harvey.

Percy was immediately met by his fiancée afterwards. "Crazy party, right?" she said with a laugh. Then she held a shopping bag with 'Christian Louboutin' on the front. "I have some heels I don't need, I thought you might want them." She nodded seriously, and then exploded into laughter. "No, the ridiculous hotel Jace's company got us came with stocked closets, and I didn't have another gift bag. Come on, open it!"

He reached inside the mounds of perfumed tissue and felt something soft and slick. He pulled out a dark bundle that unfolded from his hand, revealing a wetsuit. He bliked.

Piper smirked. "A little bird told me you thought it would be absurd to surf in winter here. So you're coming with me. This weekend, while Annabeth's off in the land of perpetual summer. I know a place where we can rent surfboards. No negotiations, unless there's a life and death situation. Okay?"

Stunned, he repeated back, "Okay." Then he cleared his throat. "But it is absurd. How do you not plan on freezing to death?"

"I'll be moving, Percy. And that's why I'll be in a wetsuit, not a three-piece bikini. Chill. I promise I won't let you drown." Percy snorted and geared up to protest when she wiggled her fingers in a wave and dragged an extremely thick book in the direction of Annabeth.

Percy looked around. The only gift he prepared was for Annabeth, so he had to wait while she accepted what was probably a textbook from Piper. Harvey had received a small table-looking thing from Leo, engraved with the words: "Butford II." Hazel received a bow from Frank that Thalia smirked at. Grover then pushed a small stack of antique Green Day posters into Thalia's hands, who gasped and, after a moment's pause, took off an autographed pin from her leather jacket and handed it to him. Calypso got Jason a purple apron and a set of plaid mitts with the letters "SPQR." Already sitting next to Leo's beanbag was a perfect replica of the original Ferrari factory and racetrack, with a note from Annabeth.

Grover cleared his throat at Percy's shoulder. He spun around and quickly hid the Louboutin bag behind him. "Yeah?"

"I have a gift for you." He lugged a heavy box to Percy's feet. "It's a saltwater-to-freshwater filter. You just need some packets of instant noodles and you're ready to be a beach hobo."

Percy felt his smile growing wider and wider. He didn't think he could carry the machine anywhere, but it was an amazing gift. "I can't believe you. It looks expensive. Aren't you supposed to be saving up for the ring?"

"I am. But my loan covers most of it, and I have a feeling I'll be able to pay it back in a year." He smirked mysteriously and danced away to his mug of hot chocolate.

Percy rolled his eyes and nudged the box a little closer to himself. He still had no idea how to bring it back, but it would have to do. He saw Piper leaving Annabeth with a pretty sea-glass bracelet, holding another designer bag (Dior now) for Leo, and moved in.

Annabeth turned to him. "I'm almost getting tired of smiling," she said with a laugh. "I don't really have a gift. In fact, this was just came in the mail with the invitation to speak in San Francisco. But I'm hoping we can go together?" She handed him a glossy flyer. It was for an open hall at NYU with speeches about marine biology and ecosystems and all that.

Percy laughed. "It sounds nice, but I doubt I'll understand anything. I didn't even graduate from high school."

"What's a group of jellyfish called?" Annabeth quizzed.

The answer immediately fell from his tongue. "A smack." And then he paused. "That's trivia. Not how shoreline erosion is due to nitrogen runoff or whatever." Annabeth still looked so smug. "Fine. I'll check it out."

He wondered if she was giving him a small gift because she didn't know what he had in return, or anything at all. He pushed the thought away and pulled out a bundle from his bag. Annabeth's eyes grew wide.

It was a string of cranes in every shade and pattern of blue. He poured it into her hands and dropped a soft blue one on top, like a cherry on the sundae. "It's a thousand."

She picked up the lightest one curiously, but he inclined his head so she nodded and slipped it into her pocket after smoothing the wings up against the body. "Did you make a wish?"

He did, and part of him thought he wasted it. He might've spent a good portion of last night considering it, but there were some things he could not write in the last crane. He would have to start over if he wanted to wish something about his mother. Not that it mattered, or anything would change, but she deserved a wish and the time it took to fold a thousand cranes anyway. His first wish, which was now used up. But he forced himself to look at Annabeth's fading smile. "Yeah. Time to try again. Well, actually, I already have a few new ones."

She grinned. "I'll miss you, even if it's only for a weekend. Tell me how you're doing, okay?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to give this tent prototype to Thalia. She's always going camping with the Hunters, but it's too cramped and well, she's not always the greatest roommate."

"Annie, did I hear my name?" Thalia yelled. Percy realized she was probably wearing someone else's uniform.

"Yes, you're getting a gift," Annabeth said with a laugh, heading to her side. "I'll never understand why you like camping so much…"

Leo suddenly appeared at Percy's side in a flashy Dior jacket. His chest was puffed out and Percy finally noticed "Team Leo" and "Mister McShizzle" embroidered on it, but he was still swinging his gift bag from Piper. "Hey, man, um. Thanks for last time."

Percy shrugged. "Yeah. Sorry you got busted."

Leo snorted. "It's an everyday occurrence, no biggie." He smirked, all seriousness fading. "Harvey told me you're a huge bookworm."

"What?" he searched the room for the little liar, but he was nowhere to be found. "I promise I'm not."

"Right." Leo handed him a bookmark. "See, you can unfold the top and create a reading light. And the light will be concentrated. For when you stay up later pouring over novels."

"I have never done that," he tried to say with distain. He handed it back. "This is an obligatory gift, isn't it?"

"No it isn't. I just want to encourage you to read more," Leo protested.

"Right." He took it anyway and placed it inside his bag.

Wrapping paper was strewn all across the living room, and Mercutio decided to walk over the top of the couch and start shredding all of it. Percy still got to talk with everyone else (except Harvey, he was probably hiding for good) and they all plopped before the screen and watched the original Home Alone.

"Ha!" Thalia cackled while Grover sulked. Jason kept murmuring to Piper about the ring he already picked out for her, and Leo kept blocking the screen, and Annabeth hogged the popcorn for the majority of the movie ("I need energy for the flight" was her excuse), and Hazel was already asleep on the carpet. Frank gently moved her onto the couch and ever-so-tenderly prepared pillows and blankets for her. Percy didn't remember much from it, because time zoomed past them and it was ten and Annabeth had to leave if she ever wanted to get through the security lines.

She wheeled out her suitcase, stuffed Piper's textbook (it was tilted "Architecture through the Ages: From Greco-Roman to Art Deco") into her carry-on luggage, passed out her gifts in the stockings to her pets and double-checked with Piper and Jason that they were free to come feed and walk them, and then hugged everyone warmly.

Percy was last. He didn't know if it was because he hung behind, or if she meant for it to be that way. She waited for permission, and he just shrugged and let her loosely wrap her arms around him. She smelled like lemons and he wouldn't let himself think about her hold.

He suddenly smelled smoke and there was a chorus of pissed shrieking of, "Leo!"

She grinned. "I'll see you?" she asked, pulling back.

He shut his eyes for a moment. "Yeah."

She opened her door to the freezing hallway and pulled out her things. Annabeth pressed the elevator button and turned around to wave goodbye. She stood at the door for a moment, and then went up onto her tiptoes, and her lips pressed into Percy's cheek.

**Wait, what? **** By the way, I must give credit to "Silver Screen" by herecomesthepun to a particular scene here. I absolutely did not realize the similarities until I finished this, but the brilliant idea is hers, and that's a wonderful story you all should read. **

**And Lipara is one of the Hesperides, one of Atlas' daughters that guard Hera's golden apples, so a sister to Calypso and Zoë. **

**I have a quick ad for everyone that's wondered about putting up their original works (like me). There's wattpad or Wordpress for blogs, but if you can't access them or don't want to use those (like me), FictionPress is another option. It's literally been there the whole time in the Story Regulations, but I only paid attention to it recently hehe. The structure and everything is pretty much identical to , and there's even a separate area for poetry! I would say the one flaw is the smaller community/readbase, there's not as much instant gratification from reviews as you find here, though that's really shouldn't be so relied upon. People are able to self-publish from wattpad, though, so I think it looks different in the way of career paths. **

**Review reply:**

**MrGilborg: Wow, thank you for being such a consistent reader. I'm glad to hear that! I do try to make it cool ****. Some characters will be added in, yes, not a lot though because I think I planned to have what I have and I can't think of anyone else…..? I did introduce some other minor characters of the canon and you got to see the other side of Atlas (that's why I didn't mention her as an OC in my A/N, just random fact). I have been using my creative license a lot with this fic, trust me, but I do have some not-backed-up-by-science reasoning. In Young Sheldon, there was an episode where this scientist was about to power a clock with a potato, because there is potential energy stored inside….? And I think I may have made a battery with one before. I don't know, I'm not exactly great with science. Have some imagination ****!**


	19. Chapter 19

**I have been waiting so long to write this. (Both in the sense that this is a key plot point I've thought of a long time ago, and that I should've started sooner. I just realized I sometimes take two weeks to update…but future chapters should come faster.) The romance-writing part of my brain that is still trying to shake off the pins and needles is both giddy and annoyed at me. But my nerdiness is purely giddy now that I've reached two Shakespeare quotes in a row ****.**

**Enjoy! **

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: "Here's to my love! [drinks] O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die." -Shakespeare, _Romeo and Juliet

On Christmas morning, Percy was getting a cramp in his right side. There was an indent in the couch, from the way he was curled up for most of the night. Annabeth had kissed his left cheek, and he didn't want to rub away the ghost of an imprint on Grover's musty couch cover.

It was stupid, but it was something small he wanted to do, and it made sense to him.

He grazed his cheek again with his fingertips and wondered if he could touch her lips and not just his own face. What would think if he just reached out and brushed his fingers against her lips? How would they feel? What if he brushed his lips against hers?

He was pretty drunk the last time he admitted he loved her. Grover and Harvey were pretty convinced of it, or at least that something was there, and Harvey liked to imagine it was between both of them. Whatever it was, he didn't want to fall into the trap of trying to define something so obscure and useless and consuming. Well, everything else happened, and it was easy to forget. Or convince himself he forgot it.

Which was a lie, and he didn't need Annabeth to let him it was kind of impossible to lie to yourself. Even if he was getting pretty good at it, if he did say so himself. What was that kiss supposed to mean? She didn't do it to anyone else. She made him step outside a little, like she wanted privacy. Personal time with just him— but she requested that with everyone. She made everyone feel special, worthy of her attention. Maybe he was the only one flapping at the end of the hook, begging for more crumbs, gulping up all the attention he got. A kiss on the cheek was quite innocent, but there were certainly far more platonic ways to express that. Whatever that was. She didn't rely on touch to express anything with him. She knew he didn't like that a lot, and her presence was good enough. So why a cheek kiss? Was there another intention behind it? Was she—he cringed at the thought—aiming for his lips?

He immediately shoved down the idea. But his thoughts didn't quiet down. It sounded impossible. She was impossible and so insistent on being his friend, and it was impossible for her to think of something beyond that. She was just trying to show how she thought of him, or cement their relationship— through a kiss. Did she really want to reaffirm their friendship by putting her lips inches to his? What intention did Annabeth have?

He ran his hands through the tangle of hair and tried not to groan. He couldn't mull over this any further. But there was much more fodder his brain had unearthed to consider.

She always answered the phone immediately, even if she was doing something else. She showed him her…interesting dancing to distract him. She thought of him as her favorite person, according to Thalia. She tucked him in that one night, even though he'd went out and gotten high right before their meeting. The one thing the Annabeth in his dream had gotten right was that the Annabeth he knew right now stuck with him when he had no good days, no improvement, never thought he wouldn't get any better. She always smiled blindingly at him. She kissed him on the cheek.

What if they were a few steps back, under the mistletoe where Leo tried to unsuccessfully sneak one on Calypso? What if she whispered "until next time" or whatever those flirty heroines in romance novels did? Not that he could imagine her being that girl, but explaining that was a flirty act (or just a friendly, albeit strange act) would probably be driving him less crazy. What if she didn't do anything, would he be obsessing over her so much? Or what if he showed up at the airport with a bouquet of roses and begged her to stay?

He winced. That one was way too off. He could imagine her kind, sympathetic, pity-free but heart-shattering smile as she gently pushed the bouquet away. Or maybe she would smell the roses and thank him. But she wasn't a girl that would put her life on hold for some last-minute gesture, and Percy should stop watching soap operas with Harvey. He'd just gotten too good at seeing her expression in his mind if he ever brought up what was plaguing him now or admitted something or stopped hiding his feelings.

Which was still something he wished he had some heroin to face. Alcohol numbing his thoughts didn't sound so helpful at the moment.

He shifted and felt his sore hip move onto a lump in the couch. Knowing Grover, it could be a wad of recycled paper or a half-chewed soda can. He wished he'd taken up Annabeth's offer to sleep on her lump-free, generously stuffed couch. Or maybe her bed. To feel her sheets slipping like water over his skin, and breathe in her lemon shampoo and laundry detergent smell in the pillow case—that was the closest he was ever getting to her. To be skin-to-skin with her.

This time, Percy rolled into the couch, making sure to keep the one cheek from touching anything, and groaned into his pillow for a moment.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Grover asked warily behind him. "And how long have you been up?"

Percy sprang up and tried not to snort at the mess of Grover's hair and his goat-patterned PJs. "Not long. I wasn't doing anything." He glanced at the weak, not-quite-bright morning glow hiding out behind buildings. He heard the familiar tune of "Jingle Bells" streaming out from someplace. "Why are you awake?"

Grover peered at him, the dark rings around his eyes making him look like a racoon. "It's Christmas day, Percy."

"And?"

He sighed. "Your memory sucks, man," he teased, and then his expression froze up like he was afraid he said something wrong. Like maybe the heroin ravaged Percy's mind (though he thought it had pretty much been always like that).

Percy shrugged. "Better than yours."

Grover relaxed and breathed out a laugh. It wasn't so much genuine as relieved, but Percy forced himself not to dwell on it. And imagine how Annabeth's laugh was far less bleat-y and filled with awkward pockets of air, but like sunlight was pouring from her throat and how her eyes finely sparkled.

"Nah, I didn't mean that, Perce. Juniper's coming with my gift!"

Percy got up to stretch. "Why doesn't she just come down the chimney?" he deadpanned.

Grover stuck his hands on his hips. "Come on, we have to decorate this place!" He straightened. "And I have to get ready."

Percy refused to snort. He refused to think about how he always meet Annabeth in his grimy hoodie and those falling-apart shoes. How they'd clearly put more effort into gift-giving than him. He wrote a maybe 300-word letter with dozens of spelling mistakes, since he had no autocorrect. Grover was still waiting impatiently for him. "What should I do?"

Grover grinned. "The boxes are in the kitchen, and don't barge into the bathroom while I'm changing."

Percy grimaced. "I did not plan on doing that, G-man."

"Good." He fluffed his hair and pranced into the bathroom. Percy caught a glimpse of pimply and slightly flabby flesh as Grover ran back out of the bathroom, screaming, "Don't look at me!" and grabbed a sweater from his closet-sized bedroom, because he really did sleep inside a closet.

Percy felt a little queasy and decided to postpone his customary three glasses of water in the morning. He decided to peer into the fridge first, since food was a newly important priority. Grover had some OJ, horseradish, and a ton of boxes from last night's party. He had to lift some compostable lids to see inside, and every single one held an enchilada. Someone must've accidentally ordered a hundred shipments of corn tortillas, because Percy was pretty sure he saw Grover shoving down a couple of whole casserole dishes last night, and there was still enough to pack his fridge.

He stuck two in the microwave and then peered into the box. There was a ton of tinsel, wooden gingerbread cookie-shaped ornaments, and a stack of newspapers. Percy strew the tinsel around and hung the ornaments on the coat rack and a doorknob but had nothing to do with the newspapers. "Jingle Bells" was still playing, and it was irritating him a little. Did people really have to play the same songs over and over? He imagined strumming a guitar in front of Annabeth, and quickly pushed away the image. He was pouring out two glasses of OJ when Grover finally left, frantically going through the mess on the coffee table. "Where's the hair gel?"

Percy squinted at him. He was wearing a hand-knitted sweater with a reindeer and mostly wrinkle-free khakis. He had a red-and-green striped Rasta cap on. "Do you really need hair gel?"

"Yes! I need to look nice for Juniper!"

The microwave dinged. Grover drooled. "Are those enchiladas?"

"There's literally nothing else in the fridge."

He abandoned his search and ran to the table. He was on his third piece when the doorbell rang, and he simply waved Percy on as he tried to scoop as much onto his fork as possible.

Percy opened the door to, of course, Juniper, with a spring of holly on her ponytail holder, a dark skirt under a matching reindeer sweater, and a brilliant smile. To her credit, her face didn't fall when she saw Percy.

"Good morning! Merry Christmas," she said kindly. "I hope Grover's been treating you okay?"

Percy quickly gestured for her to go in, even though Grover's apartment wasn't much warmer from the hallway. She stomped off the snow on her boots and shook it from her hat. "Yeah, it's been great." He'd just stayed up for most of both nights, thinking about nothing he would say to Juniper. "Grover's eating enchiladas for breakfast," he explained.

"Ah," Juniper said, her green eyes twinkling. She headed to the kitchen and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Percy imagined Annabeth doing that, her hair brushing against his neck, her cheeks still flushed, knotting her hands over his chest. "I brought you a gift!"

Grover looked at her and blinked several times to leave his food-induced haze. He grinned hugely. "Juniper!" he cheered like a little kid to an ice cream van. And then his face dropped. "Um. I'm getting your gift. You can just leave it on the counter." He pushed up from his half-finished plate and rushed to his bedroom/closet, hissing to Percy on the way there, "Where's the tree?"

Percy startled, in the middle of imagining Annabeth's lips brushing against his ear. "What tree?"

"You can make a Christmas tree with old newspapers! I saw it on Pinterest! That's where we're supposed to put our gifts!"

"How was I supposed to know that?"

Juniper was clearly trying to look like she wasn't listening. She cleared her throat. "It's fine. Thank you, Grover, for thinking of that, but I can just give you your gift."

Grover looked between them, harrumphed, and disappeared to look for Juniper's gift.

Percy sat back down. Thinking of Annabeth's back against his, her tucking her chin on his head—it was making him a little lightheaded. He forked up some of his enchilada and then thought to say, "Have you eaten?" to Juniper.

She smiled awkwardly. "Yeah."

"Okay." He would pull a chair up for Annabeth, and she would sit, setting her legs against his, leaning in to laugh and throwing her arm around his neck again to grab the coffeepot. He forced himself to pay attention to Juniper again. "Do you want some juice? Or, uh, to sit?"

She held her gift carefully and stood illuminated by the kitchen window's light, looking slightly uncomfortable in a kitchen she probably used more than Percy and Grover combined. "Sure. I'll get it, thanks." She looked down at the table for a moment and rearranged Grover's fork and knife. Then she looked up and inhaled visibly. "Percy, I don't mean to intrude. Grover told me you've quit. First, he stops dealing, and now this. I'm really happy for you guys." She smiled, like she was leaning her face into the sun's glow. "I know it's not easy." She swallowed and look down again, and then her eyes darted up to meet his. "He wouldn't appreciate me saying this on his behalf. But all of the sites I went to said rebounding is common." Juniper cleared her throat. "Please. Don't," she implored.

Percy swallowed heavily. He didn't know what to answer. He could only feel something stirring inside him again, like a volcano, or puke, frozen in his rib cage, waiting for the perfect moment to pour. Juniper had to know how he rarely got personal with Grover. Her concern was touching, and a little painful. He couldn't promise anything. "I know," he finally settled on saying. "I know."

The closet door of Grover's room swung open, and they both tensed. "Ta-da!" Grover yelled, possibly with some hair gel on, holding a large book in his hand. He ran it over to Juniper.

"It's about the water table! It's recorded the places with the most remaining water in the next year, and there's also a website that gets updated."

Percy had no idea why Juniper would be interested. But she grinned hugely and hugged him hard, the wrapping paper crinkling between them. "Thank you for researching that for me, Grover," she said, staring into his eyes. Percy looked away and decided to steal Grover's plate.

She set the book in her seat and handed him her package. "I promise this isn't expensive."

He shook the package. It was round. He frenziedly ripped the bright green paper and held a small glass globe. He stared at it for a moment. "Thanks?" he asked in an odd voice.

Juniper laughed good-naturedly and said, "Turn it around."

The continents were tinted in different colors. On the soft yellow Africa, Percy was the first to notice an "x" in black Sharpie. Grover raised his eyebrows.

"Fine, I'll explain. I got us tickets to go there in the summer! There's someone who knows a spot where we can camp in the savannah, and it's close to wildebeest and elephant migrating routes."

Grover's jaw dropped. "Seriously?"

She nodded, smiling, and he jumped into her arms. Percy imagined lying on the roof of a Jeep, swatting mosquitos and pointing out stars with Annabeth, her eyes glinting from underneath her ranger hat. Even though he'd only ever known humid, squelchy summer nights, he would definitely want the warmth of her wrapped in his arms right now. The deepening tan of her bared shoulders, her head leaning on his arm…

"Sorry, man," Grover said, rubbing one arm and then coughing into his fist.

Percy realized he was staring into space, and looking like he was staring at them. He quickly got up, even though that made his heart jump, and gathered their dishes. "No. I shouldn't be crashing all your dates." He left them in the sink. "It's just that, um, I don't have anywhere else to go."

"No, of course we welcome you here!" Juniper said brightly, but Percy still felt her pang of pity and his obtrusiveness.

He ran a slightly damp hand through his hair. "I should check on Harvey. Hopefully Calypso's okay with keeping them both in check."

They laughed, and Percy went to the living room to grab his phone. He already had some texts from Leo. Two were sent close to midnight.

_bro ym litle bro is cool_

_he siad u liek anabth?_

And then in the last hour:

_yo come wtahc anebeaths splech w/ us _

_we r at sparkys hotel vip siute top flor!_

Percy took a long time to realize the words were already misspelled. He would've guessed Leo could use autocorrect, like Percy always required for texting and Annabeth also admitted to using, but apparently, he was more dyslexic than Percy. He even typed "mcshizzle" wrong on Percy's phone.

Though he could mostly decipher Leo's message, he had no idea where Jason and Piper were staying at. He texted Piper, who thankfully was also had autocorrect, even if she made less sense with it.

_Hey O!_

_Hello…Leo invited us to your room to watch Annabeth's lecture?_

_Yep it's on your tube. _

Percy could not help snorting.

_Ah it's auto color!_

_Where's your hotel?_

The text bubble hovered for five minutes. Percy wondered what was going on with its name. Finally, her reply came

_sry had leo turn off autocorrect couldnt type the long latin name_

She then sent the address, but Grover was apparently reading over Percy's shoulder the whole time and gasped. "The hotel in East Village?!" he shrieked as Percy jumped and shrank away. "I have to check it out ask her if I can come!" He spun to Juniper. "We're going there!"

Of course Piper agreed, and then Percy's phone was on the verge of dying, so they fetched their stuff and ran to the subway station. They arrived underground just as the train pulled up. They had to wrangle with the turnstiles and elbow through the crowd and almost got squeezed out and forced to the wait for the next mostly likely late train, but luckily, most of the population of New York was staying off the subways on Christmas Day.

They were late, however, because of the trains and the fact that Grover saw Juniper at one of the stations and had an unnecessarily long reunion together in front of everybody, but the hotel's guard let them in without fuss since Jason had called ahead. The rest of the guests at the VIP lounge and lobby's fancy cushioned seats all gave them mistrustful glances, but the receptionist and bellboys seemed unbothered once they were identified as "Mr. Grace's company."

The glass-and-marble elevator shot through the building, making gold-paneled and chandelier-hung floors run into each other. It hit the top with a pleasant ding, and the bellboy announced, "Quingentis" (which Percy guessed was five hundred in Latin, since that was the floor they were on) as the glass doors slowly panned open.

Their jaws dropped together. The suite was probably triple the size of the Valdezes's Car Shop warehouse, or the entire Half-Blood Hill building in one floor. They stood there, staring at the giant foyer with a painting of a yellow field: if Percy squinted, he thought he saw a little plaque with "Van Gogh" next to it. The bellboy coughed, pressing the open button once more.

Juniper shook herself awake first and dragged Grover out, and Percy hesitantly put Annabeth's shoes onto the three-inch thick velvet carpet. They were pretty muddied and worn from his "travels," and left a small imprint of dust.

"Hello?" Juniper called out, her voice echoing across the room.

They heard racing footsteps, and Piper rounded the corner, the feathers in her braid flying. She was wearing an ancient hoodie with faded words and Gap jeans, and her yellow socks skidded across the slick marble floor. "Finally! The TV's this way." She ran over to grab their stuff and pulled them down the hallway.

"It's just us three from the phone and Caly today," she said as they hurried down the long length of it. "Frank and Hazel are out volunteering with something, and Thalia has a lot of crime to catch on holidays, apparently, and used up her last vacation last night."

The living room was bathed in the morning light. There was a white leather couch around the size of a boat, an entire wall made up of a plasma TV screen, and a buffet table of snacks in the middle of the silk carpet. Jason, Leo, and Calypso perked up in the midst of the couch, the light glinting off of Jason's glasses and Leo was lounging around in a terry cloth bathrobe and designer sunglasses. He lifted a cocktail glass in his hand crowded with five paper umbrellas from the loaded tray of food on his lap. Harvey appeared in a polo shirt and crisp slacks, self-consciously rubbing a hand through his hair as he said hi to them and set a tray of mini-pizzas on the table.

Percy's eyes immediately found Annabeth up on the screen. It was still early in California. Her freckles splayed out and the curls of hair escaping from her ponytail and behind her ears suddenly hugely visible, even the tiny nick in her front tooth flashing as she grinned, and wished he could somehow take her down. She wouldn't like being larger than life, so detached from them.

"Hey!" Leo yelled. "Check this place out!"

Jason dragged his eyes away to give them a quick wave and bumped him with a pillow. "Shush! She's getting into the important stuff."

Calypso grinned at them and moved over to give them space, also seeming to be riveted by the speech.

Piper flopped beside her boyfriend, and Leo's mountain of food jumped in midair. "Aargh!" he yelled, grabbing at popcorn and cream puffs and everything else Percy could imagine.

They settled down into the couch, Grover secretively reaching for some of Leo's snacks, and Jason turned up the volume.

"I wrote my thesis on cognitive dissonance," Annabeth was saying, her voice smooth with a practiced quality. Percy's ears warmed upon hearing her voice in clarity. She was back to being a real person, not the character prancing through his dreamland, and she was a lot prettier than he remembered. She had folded her hands on the podium, straightened, and wore a small smile. Percy wondered if he was imagining the rosy, reddish spread across her cheeks and arms. A budding tan?

"When the brain consciously knows something, but the person doesn't act along those lines. I wanted to uncover that in different people. But one thing I learned from majoring in psychology is that you _must_ have a mental reason for everything." The audience politely laughed. "Perhaps I had my own stage of cognitive dissonance. When going through rebellion in college, and exploration of myself, of course there was a lot I knew I shouldn't have done, or I wanted myself to do instead. In my research—"

"Why is there salted caramel popcorn?" Leo suddenly burst out. "Nasty!" He straightened, a gigantic effort, and was about to fling the bowl onto the coffee table, but Grover snatched it up and joyfully poured the contents into his mouth.

"Where's that cayenne-seasoned popcorn? That was really good." Leo pouted as he searched through the different bowls.

"It's in the movie theater, not here," Calypso said lowly.

"Then why aren't we watching this there?" Leo sputtered.

"Because this isn't a film!"

"How did Caly even date you," Piper groaned.

"Can we go there instead?" Leo wheedled.

"This video is uploaded by Stanford?" Grover gasped, suddenly noticing the title.

Percy felt a groan building in his throat. He'd long lost track of what Annabeth was saying, but he could still watch the glow in her eyes, how she waved her few notecards around, and how everything she said was in that smooth, rhythmic cadence he could lose himself in. Her hand gestures orchestrated a story he didn't understand, but it meant a lot to her, and he wanted to run into the world she painted.

"She sounds a little rehearsed," Piper commented idly, her own fingers probing into Leo's snack pile.

Percy wished he had a pair of headphones. Annabeth laughed on-screen, and Percy regretted not listening closely. He wanted to join with her, learn what made her laugh to try it again.

"Don't touch that…" Juniper said warningly. The coffee table suddenly glowed neon, and then a chrome panel of iced energy drinks rose up. "Ooh," Grover exclaimed happily, lifting his hand from a panel of buttons and grabbed a bright-orange one.

Percy finally noticed the audience sitting before the stage when Annabeth glanced at an upraised hand. It was like she had a cone of attention just for the student, which made Percy's throat stiffen, and she grinned at his question. Annabeth cleared her throat and cocked her head for a second. "Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

"Hey!" Piper said and spun around to Leo. "What did you hit me for?"

Jason was guiltily dropping a golden coin into the breast pocket of his purple t-shirt. "Sorry, that was me. I was flipping a coin."

"Oh." Piper receded, looking a little disappointed.

Leo, meanwhile, surged up. "You know, I think it's unfair that I get blamed for everything. Frank forgot to make the restaurant reservation, and the ski park didn't think to have any fire extinguishers, and Sparky's the one sitting way to close to you."

"Alright, it has been you pretty much every single time." Piper retorted. "And at least Jason didn't intend to do it."

Jason leaned over. "We shouldn't blame you so often, Leo. But your actions have unexpected consequences most of the time that we have to deal with."

Leo looked affronted, and Harvey shrank from them. He opened his mouth, and Percy didn't mean to yell. But his words echoed loudly across the room. "Annabeth took time to prepare this speech," he said tightly, staring at her, nodding as the student fired off another round of questions. "Can we just—" He cut himself off, unsure of what to say next.

"Yeah." Jason sank down. "Sorry."

Leo and Piper grumbled their apologies, and Grover reached over to turn on the volume further.

It was an arduous speech, and Percy was certainly fidgeting himself. He only found a wad of discarded gum wrappers in his pocket (how old were those?) and ducked around the coffee table, trying to keep himself from blocking Juniper's view, but he was much taller than her. He quietly fumbled inside his bag for a stack of paper and winced at the one on top. It rather resembled the paper he wrote his letter on.

The whole time, he thought of Annabeth folding her own piece, his fingers brushing against hers, her appraising gaze as she lifted his first crane to the light.

"Can I make one?" Leo stage-whispered.

The whole couch turned to look at the tiny flock growing on Percy's lap. Harvey was wiggling his eyebrows, and Percy remembered when he once asked if folding the cranes distracted Percy from thinking of Annabeth. He lied and said no, but it clearly wasn't working.

"Um. Sure." He handed a piece of paper to Leo, who took it and immediately began folding. Percy kept watching Annabeth, but he distantly heard something being twiddled with from Leo, and a soft tune under his breath. Jason elbowed him a moment after, and while the humming stopped, they could still hear something extremely complex being built underneath a protective pillow fort.

Annabeth hugged a professor and waved to the audience. "Thank you so much for inviting me. I had a lot of fun."

Percy felt frustration abruptly billowing inside him, that he was stuck here watching this on TV with all these interruptions, and that he wasn't allowed to be by her side, and if he really had a chance for anything if he couldn't even understand a speech she was giving to college students.

"No, it was an honor to have you, Dr. Chase," the professor responded, setting a hand on her arm.

He could very well imagine her as an ancient, sage old woman, having seen the world, being the last to encompass the death of humanity or whatever with her fathomless gray eyes.

Annabeth even got a short advertising clip, and Piper was yelling, "Wait! This is being recorded, right?" where she sat before a white, glowing backdrop and flashed a toothpaste commercial smile and said, "I'm Annabeth Chase and for more psychology videos from Stanford University, please visit…" Piper cut off the rest with her choked laughter and Calypso mused, "I think that's new."

The video stopped with Annabeth's winning grin frozen up on the screen, and Jason's recommended videos came up: "The Ancient History of Bricks," "DC's Best Heroes," "Mario Kart Hacks," "How to Live with a Vegetarian Girlfriend," and nothing his friends would let him live with.

Leo was taking pictures like the paparazzi, and Piper was picking the last one, and Juniper's eyebrows were about to shoot over her hairline. Percy laughed along with them and then quickly excused himself to call Annabeth. Even though he would sound a mess, he wanted to reassure himself she was still the Annabeth he knew, who blurted out things and licked her fingers, and it thrilled him that he could just call her. Because she thought of him as a friend.

It rang three times, and then again. And more times. Around the twentieth time, the ring quieted and an automated voice announced the user was busy and he could leave a voice mail.

There was a laugh in her voice, and a soft tinkling he recognized were the glass owls shaking from wind in her office. Her voice sounded a little higher, scratchier. She might've been younger. "This is Annabeth. What can I do for you?" He wondered what has happening as she recorded his, what she thought, why she was laughing or if she always sounded like that. She still sounded different. Percy realized he'd been standing there silently after the click for multiple seconds. He quickly fumbled through the settings to delete his message.

Percy played through the recording again. He kept an eye on the clock and went back to the TV room. He would call her back in twenty minutes, see if something held her up.

-line break-

An hour later, they'd played pool, mini golf, went bowling, and watched some classics inside Jason's hotel room. They explored Piper's landfill of a room and had lunch at The Gardener's Table, a nice restaurant Miranda had set up, ten subway stations away since it was an affordable place. Also, extremely healthy, as Leo and Percy found. Only a couple of waiters were there, and Miranda didn't hold back in showering them in some of her newest salads. He pawned over a good chunk of his newest check, even though Grover offered, and made himself smile about it. They went out for fro-yo afterwards at one of the few open stores, which was a fairly unanimous position, except Percy felt his upper lip and throat burning with cold for the rest of the day, but it was still worth it. Leo turned out to be exceptionally good at hoarding gummy bears and Skittles in his pockets, though the latter was a lackluster candy, in Percy's view, since it had no blue ones. His fro-yo was blueberry flavored, of course.

He tried to call Annabeth a few other times, and when he was on the verge of seeming like a stalker, his phone finally buzzed with a text.

_Sorry, Percy! I've been really busy all day, let's talk tomorrow? _

He stared at his phone for a moment. He felt a sinking feeling inside him. Irrationally, he thought Annabeth was fading, turning into a wispy apparition, and instead of her lips puckering for his cheek, they were laughing. Faintly.

She didn't even sound the same. She usually didn't add a question mark to a statement. Did she? Maybe she was on the run. But he had no idea.

Leo jostled over, tossing an arm over Percy. He jumped. "Hey, sorry, didn't mean to surprise you. I just had the best idea! You know Jace's company got him a Porsche?"

"We are not racing. The street is not a racetrack." Jason was stern. Percy felt himself floating away, struggling to escape from himself.

"I won't go too far over the speed limit! Beauty Queen! I know you're interested."

In the corner of his eye, he saw Piper leaning against a lamppost, rolling her eyes. "In imminent death? No."

"I'm amazing at driving!" Leo gasped. "We can get outfitted in suits and helmets and everything!"

Calypso smacked his shoulder. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Piper can drive," Leo finally sighed. She immediately straightened from the lamppost and grinned at Jason. "Babe, do you have the keys?"

Jason seemed to not be able to help himself grinning back. "Yeah. Here you go, Pipes."

"Thanks! We'll be careful," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

It was a convertible, and only Leo and Piper fit, to Harvey's disappointment. Piper did keep to her word, for the most part, and they looked up an empty lot on Google Maps. Piper repeatedly revved the engine with a giddy look on her face, which was obviously frightening all the valets and guards outside the hotel. Leo contented himself with playing with the windshield wipers and turning the radio to Top 40.

"Oh, come on," Piper groaned as Shawn Mendes' "If I Can't Have You" come on. Leo delighted in Piper's annoyance and pointed at a blushing Calypso during the chorus.

_I can't write one song not about you/can't have one drink without thinking 'bout you/Is it too late to tell you that/everything is nothing if I can't have you_

Leo howled the last part, and Calypso buried her face in her hands. Rolling her eyes, Piper changed the station to some indie rock and shot off. Percy stood in the cloud of exhaust and felt something finally clear in his mind.

"We'll hopefully see them in an hour," Jason said. "If not, I guess the hospital then."

Juniper laughed. Percy felt his throat go dry.

"You know, I think there's a steam room in the hotel. I've always wanted to try," Jason said, eyes eager. Harvey stared longingly at the road, even though they couldn't see the Porsche anymore, and Calypso finally got him to go inside with them.

"You know, we should look into finding a small Harvey Davidson for you," Calypso teased. "I'm just not sure if you can get a license."

"I can pass the test," Harvey protested as they entered the elevator. "I rode with Jake a lot."

"Unfortunately, some people are ageist," Grover sighed.

Percy settled his forehead on the glass wall. The bellboy tried not to frown at the smudge his breath was making.

Jason casually switched into a bathrobe—and was than an eight-pack? And ran into the steam room first. Moist, boiling steam mushroomed out into their faces. Grover grimaced, and Percy decided to hand his bathrobe to him.

"I think I want to have a nap," he said quietly.

They turned to stare at him. Percy tried not to wilt under the concern and pity. "I'm just a little tired from last night. I drank some of your coffee, Grover, sorry." He hoped he sounded convincing, and his voice was at a normal tone.

"Yeah, rest well," Juniper piped up.

"I'll show you the way there," Calypso offered, striding forward. "What kind of guest room do you want?"

"Um, a normal one?" His eyes darted around the hallways, his energy draining. He didn't want to get lost. He thought he saw the TV around a corner and pointed to a door. "Does that have a bed?"

"Yeah, I think." Her cinnamon-colored eyebrows pulled together as she pushed open the door, like they were exploring a new world together. Percy felt a small ache in his chest. It was a plain room, with tassels lining the velvet curtains and the four poster bed's drapes, glass topping the tables and crystals dripping from the chandelier. It was probably around the size of a normal hotel room. The gold shine was way too much for anyone through, but he couldn't help sitting on the plush, bouncy comforter.

"I'll leave you here then," Calypso said and left without fuss. Percy immediately went to the window, but the skyline and the new size of humans and honking taxis on the streets made his stomach reel. He took off his shoes, stuffed them in his bag, and found a pair of cotton slippers in the oak-hewn closet. The curtains were drawn, some water splashed around the sink, and the heavy blanket was tossed. He stuffed the bathrobe under the sink in case someone decided to start sleuthing around. Carefully, ever so carefully, he opened the door and tiptoed out into the hallway. The door was well-oiled and the floor was covered in a dense Persian carpet that absorbed all sound, so he made his mad dash to the front door easily. He heard faint squealing from the steam room, but it was a distance away.

The elevator ding was a lot louder than he imagined, and he rushed inside and pressed "close" multiple times. The bellboy hung back, looking slightly affronted. The elevator fell, releasing a few other well-groomed people smelling like expensive cigars and perfume that eyed him with an obvious air of condescension and inched closer to the bellboy. Percy ignored them all.

He speed-walked through the lobby and blew out of the hotel into the biting cold. He shuddered inside his coat and crossed the pretty lawn. At the sidewalk, Percy felt himself slow down.

He could hardly believe he was really doing this. He wasn't even sure where to go. He had nothing but a few dollars on him.

But his craving was no longer just rushing through his blood or humming inside his bones, it ripped through him, snarling. Like a beast, caught inside his too-fragile body, ready to lunge out. Percy fought to breathe through it.

The icy air passed through his lungs a few times, and he started off towards the nearest subway station, whipping his phone out on the way. "Connor, hey," he said lightly. "Are you home?"

"Um, yeah. What's going—"

"Good. Stay there." He hung up and hurried a little faster. Inside the station, he didn't reserve any energy elbowing and pushing people behind him as he got into the subway. He was walking and talking like a New Yorker now. Finally joining his cohorts.

Connor's apartment was not far from Travis', figures. He was rooming with a couple of his half-brothers. Their dad really didn't keep a check on things. The whole place seemed musty and was too cluttered for any sunlight. Connor looked up from a giant pile of tarot cards he was dealing and yelled, "Hey!" He came over to Percy, ushering in with a slightly nervous expression. "What's up, man?"

Percy cleared his throat. "Can I borrow some money?" He stopped. He had no explanation, and he wasn't planning on giving one.

Connor raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Percy knew he picked the right Stoll. "Sure." He reached into his pocket. "How much?"

"Two Franklins. I'll pay you back."

Connor pulled out smoothly folded bills from inside his shirt instead. Delusional, Katie liked to say. He raised his eyebrows as he handed them back. "You sure?"

Percy resisted touching the money to his face or something else stupid like that, but he was feeling emotional. "Yes. Besides, don't you have plenty from yesterday?"

Connor's face didn't move, but his finger twitched slightly, something Percy only noticed after years of playing poker with him. "No, I don't. My brother Cecil confiscated it all."

Percy was mildly surprised they were related, but he didn't care. "Really? He found all of it?"

Connor smiled slowly. "Yes, he did."

Percy thought Connor wasn't going to tell after this, because Percy definitely didn't believe him. He lifted a shoulder and left, almost tripping over a young boy Harvey's age as he went to the door. Percy quickly lifted his foot and ran down the stairs. He could still smell the mustiness on him.

The streets were easy, yielding to his storming, narrowing and twisting him to a familiar place. The doorknob's click whispered in his heart, like it was as huge as Jason's hotel room and every sound echoed. His eyes washed over the bleak faces inside and the candle was held up to examine his features.

"D*mn, you back?" his dealer's assistant laughed.

Percy held up the money to the candle. The assistant quieted down as the dealer pushed forward. It took him a few heart-stopping seconds to rub the paper bills, making sure it was real. Percy felt like he lived eons, other lives, explored other worlds in the moments that passed without breath. A heavy weight dropped into his palm.

Whatever those other chances, other people, other lifetimes were, he gave them up. Because everything was nothing, and yet he could still hold it all.

Slowly, Percy crept out to the sidewalk. Everything was pretty quiet at the moment, the last moments of Christmas passing away. He eyed the buildings. In the distance, a set of bleached, for-sale real estate stores stood underneath pastel apartments, now sketched in shadow. He felt his stomach twist again.

Percy turned back around, and for some reason, there was no pounding, nothing telling him to rush. His internal clock hummed quietly. His feet led him forward. He didn't know this area very well in the dusk, he realized. He stumbled across a few streets, imagined he could see the tracks of a Stingray in the road. Percy quickly ran if he saw any bandanas or particular shirts or smelled something iffy. He hadn't been paying attention to gang territory in a while.

Slowly, carefully, feeling drained, he hiked up a sloping street. At the tip was an abandoned office building, and a useless grassy lot behind it. The grass was so overgrown, the little slabs of tombstones were almost hidden.

He knew why he was here. He ran to Silena's tomb and shoved the stone. It was so wind-beaten, eroded by the summer rains that the words were difficult to make out. He shoved it again, and he felt the flimsy stone easily loosen in the cold dirt. He put his shoulder against a word—he couldn't even make it out, and pushed hard. Then he sat down on the slightly damp grass, panting hard.

At Bianca's tomb, there were flowers. Small purple chrysanthemums, the petals papery and wilted. They were tied with ribbon. Percy didn't know where they were from. He glared at the tomb and heard screaming in his mind. He realized he was the one doing it. "Why did you make me like this?" he screamed. "Why did you let me kill you?"

Beckendorf's resting spot was on the very edge. Clarisse didn't let anyone else help them carry his body. It was their fault, Percy remembered feeling clearly. Their fault Beckendorf's body was so cold and heavy. They couldn't walk any further than that and dug a hole right there.

Percy tried to sink his fingers into the earth, but it was frozen. He clawed at it until his nails chipped, and he still kept clawing. He finally came up with a few icy clods. Percy pelted his grave with them. A wolfish voice chased his anger away, hissing into his ear, "Like they really matter to you."

Percy sat completely still.

"Like you actually cared enough to make the right decisions for them," it hissed again. "Like you don't just use their deaths as a crutch to blame all the mistakes you've made that you'll never be able to redeem."

His ears rang with sudden silence. And then an empty face, with Annabeth's eyes, because he couldn't imagine her features at the moment. Her eyes were unmoved, hard. The mouth parted. "You get to make the choice, Percy," said her empathetic voice, which did sound a lot like her. Like she was pressing her life into every single word.

_But you don't understand, Annabeth. _She made the choice for him.

Percy dusted the dirt from his hands. He wanted to run from ghosts and illusions. He wound around corners, heading into dead ends, scrummaging his mind for a number. Just a small, simple number. He tripped a few times and leaned against the streetlights, panting. Suddenly, there it was. The little scratched numbers glowing under the light. 557.

Percy frowned at the buzzers and his fingers danced over them, finally selecting one from the second floor. He coughed out something like, "Delivery" when a nasal elderly lady's voice asked about him. The door relented under his push.

He heard the ticking grow a little louder. It was pressing and colliding against his heartbeat. Percy was almost gasping as he waited for the elevator.

The elevator smoothly slid past the second floor, finally arriving at the eighth. The moon was rising, but it was masked in clouds.

The door numbers were hazy in his vision. He went to the third door. Percy stood there for a moment, bracing himself against the doorway. His fingers lightly went up to his cheek.

A breath passed through him sharply. He took out everything, finished with the spoon. His fingers curved around his syringe, his thumb slipping onto the plunger. He brushed a few scars, found a new, smooth spot. Let himself sink down to the carpet first, his back against the wall.

There was a tightness in his chest. Lights were pouring into his vision, showering him with thin blinding sparks. The edges were blurring, and then darkness came in splotches. Percy didn't even think to fight it.

-line break-

No time had seemed to pass when his neurons jumped and signals to his body crashed together. His eyes yanked open. He stared up at a pair of eyes, so narrowed the eyeliner around them seemed to touch.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "We have Naloxone for stupid criminals, not just stupid idiots like you. What do you think you are doing?" she screeched again. He noticed a leather jacket draped over her shoulder, and wondered if he saw it draped on the couch yesterday. She didn't leave with it. He felt his blood draining from his head, but maybe he was imagining it.

"Listen," she bit out, "you don't get someone to care about you and then just leave. When someone gives you so many chances and tells themselves not to hope, you don't leave them. When someone so young and innocent trusted you, you don't just disappear and hope they forgot you because their lives are not better like that."

He heard ringing in his ears, and wondered if she was screaming. He placed his kiss-less cheek on the hallway carpet.

"Percy?" she asked, with a sudden rise of fear in her voice.

His chest hurt again. He closed his eyes and only saw small red dancing dots.

Cold fingers gripped his chin and shook him hard. His eyes fluttered open, and he saw a skull bracelet, peeping out from beneath her police uniform's sleeve. Percy choked and gasped.

"What?" Thalia said. She was mostly likely screaming.

His fading mind was filled with one word. "Reyna," he mumbled aloud, hoping to dispel the repeating chant, or maybe it was just marching out of him. But it just stole a breath he really needed.

He shut his eyes tightly when everything started spinning. He didn't want to darkness to overtake him again, not when he'd just thought of someone that was somehow important. But at least the pain was getting chased away.

"Who?" Thalia screamed.

**I kind of had a long rant, but I'll just cut it short. I really hated to do this with Percabeth, but Rachel's out of the picture and, well, I'm making a point. Percy has this savoir mentality with Annabeth, and if she can't be there for him, everything is going to come crashing down. It doesn't matter that Annabeth is the right girl, because of course she is, but that doesn't mean Percy won't make mistakes anymore. They certainly haven't discussed this before. **

**I'm eager to hear what you guys think! Just because I'm the author doesn't mean I'm right or that I know everything, and there's obviously a lot more sides to this I haven't thought of. **

**(By the way, what's happening in here and the next few chapters will be a lot more accurate than the first few. I have also made minor edits to those, and changed it so that Percy used around twice a day up to Ch. 10, one scene in the last chapter, and made the Stolls brothers like they originally are in the canon. I'll be telling you guys about my edits when I make them from now on.)**

**Review replies:**

**SpartanBoy: Hey, I don't know if you've kept reading up until here, but I'll say this anyway. Thank you so much for pointing that out, and for clarifying it wasn't flames, actually. I've been dreading/waiting for someone to call me out on my limited/absolutely no knowledge on pretty much the biggest topics I discuss here: depression, heroin, maybe even romance, etc. for a long time. I started this out as a romance story, of course I was looking at everything the wrong way! **** But thank you, that was really convicting. It took me far too many chapters into this story to realize some serious inaccuracies, and the whole of my groundwork has been laid while I looked at this the wrong way. I apologize, I know it own it to any reader to have some more accuracy. I've fixed some things, definitely, you're getting a much better version than some of my older readers is all I can say, and unfortunately, you'll only be seeing a very rosy version of that journey. I really wish I could change it. Anyway, thanks for saying that, and I'm glad I amused you…kind of? **

**Guest: Yes! Thanks for being so encouraging! You don't know how much it means to me that you took your time ****. **

**MrGilborg: Shoot. That warrants like a 1k response. I'm going to attempt to keep it short. Again, thank you! Honestly, I felt the same way about Annabeth's appearances. She's kind of difficult in social situations, because she cares about her friends a lot, but, exactly, is the type to still try and give Percy her unequivocal attention. Percy kind of needed some alone time, but that was really helpful, I'm going back and making some edits. Don't worry, it would be my fault for not updating often enough, but her family relationships are pretty calm. (At least, that's what you guys know *inserts evil laughter*.) I don't believe I've tried to show/hint that she's in conflict with them, and but whatever's happening is left out on purpose. You'll see… This is unfortunately not the turning point, but it's getting there, and *spoiler* soon your wish shall be granted in part ****. I love Percy and Piper's relationship too! I honestly kind of borrowed the dynamic from this semi-cliché high school fic but it portrayed Piper really realistically and I was like yes that's amazing. Thank you for being pun-y, if that was intended, but it's still really nice of you. About the marine bio speech…it's pretty far away in the future, and that's a little foggy to me right now. So no guarantees. It'll probably be nice, though. Also, well, romance. I had a small rant in my A/N for Ch. 15, I'm not sure if you've read it or not, but that's pretty much my entire argument. Don't worry, this story is correctly labeled, and it's happening, it's just a not-quite conventional form of slow-burn ****. All I can say is, I wish to see their relationship develop too, but we both have to wait. Because of reasons stated in my rant. And don't worry about your spelling, and I promise I am the worst speller out there. I rely on the little red line in Word a lot. I used to spell obvious like "obivous," I don't even know. Thank you so much!**


	20. Chapter 20

**New benchmark! Yay! I imagined this really weird scene, where I was a scriptwriter and this was a movie (I said this would be weird), and when a certain actor walked onto the set, I was whopping and clapping super loudly until the director kicked me out for, like, the millionth time. Who the actor is should become apparent very soon….**

**Also, my nerdiness is still giddy, because I've just explicitly used a literary term: foreshadowing! Hopefully Ch. 9 wasn't from too long ago.**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: "Hello, can you hear me?/I'm in California dreaming about what we used to be./When we were younger and free/I've forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet./There's such a difference, between us/And a million miles." – "Hello" by Adele_

A ceiling of surgical-masked people fanned over Percy's line of vision. He blinked as the faces parted, revealing the actual brightly-lit ceiling, and let out a small sigh.

"Perseus Jackson," a doctor read from his report. "I see you've had quite your share of ERs, how does this one compare?"

He chose to keep silent. He was swimming in too much guilt and fury to open his mouth.

He leaned in, the glow of the operating lamp sparking off his shiny teeth. His eyebrows were drawn out from under his cap and deeply furrowed. "Am I to presume your every instance of overdose has been recorded?"

Percy shrugged this time, avoiding his penetrating gaze.

The doctor leaned back on his stool. "Yet that's still a lot of occasions, Perseus."

He felt a shudder and a little like throwing up. Except all of his overdose symptoms should've been reversed. Trying to shield himself from all the intrigued nurses' gazes, he mumbled, "I didn't want to."

The doctor's cloud of spicy aftershave wafted over to Percy as he bent over. "Pardon?"

"I was trying to get clean," he muttered under his breath.

The doctor schooled his surprised and slightly bemused expression within a second. "Ah." He exchanged glances with the nurses.

"Better luck with rehab," a willowy nurse said, rinsing and stacking equipment.

A male nurse reached over him to mercifully turn off the lamp, and dubiously questioned, "And would you ever choose that?"

There was a small scuffle, and the nurse dealing with the lights yelped. "You didn't have to kick me," he snapped softly, glaring at the doctor.

"The choice is yours to make, Perseus." He cleared his throat easily. "And I'm certain you have plenty of experience ignoring professional suggestions, but don't let yourself be swayed." He held out a muscular arm, and Percy loosely put his fingers in his and pushed himself off the table.

The doctor peeled off his latex gloves and took a moment to firmly fix his bright blue eyes on Percy's. "I truly care about your well-being, Perseus, and you already know what the right choice is."

He let my gaze slip from his like putty. He didn't deserve so much concern from everyone when he knew was just going to let them down again. "Thank you," he croaked.

He nodded and headed outside to wash up. A dimpled, round-cheeked nurse helpfully gestured to the exit. Percy had the sudden instinct to run back.

Grover was twisting and wringing his Rasta cap, and his hair was an utter bird's nest. His cheeks looked sunken in his weak pallor. Sourness, bitingly acidic, burbled up to Percy's throat when he remembered what Juniper told him yesterday morning.

"Percy," Grover breathed. "I'm so sorry."

He smiled senselessly, stunned. He was expecting nothing short of a thick, suffocating silence full of accusation.

Grover seemed like he wanted to rip apart his cap. "I should've noticed you were gone or even checked on you once in a while and I didn't even pay attention to you," he broke off, his gaze dropping to the ground.

Percy only had his apology in mind, and he was grateful he didn't have to meet Grover's eyes. "I lost it. I turned away the opportunity to stop myself. I'm so sorry, G-man."

Grover looked a little similarly startled. "Percy, it's perfectly normal for you to—"

A bitter laugh slipped from his throat. He didn't want to interrupt Grover, but he had already done it and he was going to continue. "Of course its normal to want to rebound. But I had no reason to choose to get high in the first place, nor let myself slip." He paused, and his mom took Annabeth's place in his mind, telling him what to say. "But I can't thank you enough for caring and sticking through this." He was a little concerned about Grover's blind loyalty—it looked a whole lot like his, but at the moment, he couldn't do anything but feel grateful someone was waiting outside for him.

They crossed the hallway of ERs, which resounded with screaming and sleepy countdowns and casual conversation between doctors and nurses. Percy shuddered involuntarily at a shriek: "Don't take her from me!" A nurse emerged from one door with blood spread all of her shirt. She nonchalantly inclined her head at them and left for the changing room.

The hallway opened into the waiting room, and Percy stopped in the middle of his tracks. His friends, all the old guys from the streets and the ones he still half thought of as Annabeth's, were cluttered around all the squeaky plastic chairs. Tension seemed to seep out of and thicken inside the room at the same time, and the few other strangers peered up with vague interest.

Hazel swiped a tear from her cheek, crushing a bundle of tissue in her fist, Clarisse stared at him like, _There better be a good reason to all this commotion_, and Jason was pulling up the hem of his sweatshirt, proving he truly did have an eight-pack, to polish his glasses before giving Percy a shocked once-over. Nico jolted from his half-asleep haze, his expression unreadable from behind his dark circles, Leo shoved a mess of bolts and nails from his lap to get up, and Frank dropped his magazine in surprise. Thalia and Piper were marching over, clearly determined to give him an earful, and Percy avoided looking over at Harvey in the corner.

"Shoot," Grover muttered at Percy's elbow. "I forgot to mention Thalia asked for Reyna's number."

Piper opened her mouth, and Percy was about to turn and ask him why that was worrying, when Will ambled back from the nurse's station. "Oh," he blurted, and Chris crashed into his back, spilling coffee all over the floor.

Surprisingly, Travis was the first to get up and Calypso followed in tow. Clarisse knew the location of the janitor's closet for some reason, but it wasn't enough of a distraction for Piper to postpone her tirade.

Her words ran into each other, but Percy could very well understand, "Don't you ever do this again, Jackson," and "I was freaking out!" and "Do you _know_ how Annabeth will feel?"

Grover cleared his throat and whispered to Percy, "Thalia called her and Reyna's flying over." Thalia had opened her mouth, but now she was just leaning against one of the plastic chairs, silently staring at him. She wasn't wearing any eyeliner this morning. His stomach roiled.

Piper straightened. "And so is Annabeth."

Percy found himself wondering if she ever did get to try Dutch Crunch bread, whatever that was. He then imagined them being on the same flight, because why wouldn't they be, and plotting how to kill him, because they could have sharp objects in their checked-in luggage…

The guilt must've showed in his face, because Thalia's voice softened ever so slightly. "How are you feeling, Jackson?"

Percy felt everyone quiet down for his answer, even Katie and Travis' bickering. The real answer was, that he was willing to give his life for another parcel of something. That he was most definitely in love, and falling in love all over again with heroin was so, so nice. But he stared at a stain on the wall and said, "Okay. Apologetic."

The noise turned back on, Leo sidestepping the mopping up of coffee to touch his shoulder, then pretended not to notice Percy's flinch as he called out, "It's okay, water boy." Chris kept rubbing the toe of his sneaker on the ground, and it made an annoying squeaking sound. Piper was saying something to Calypso, and Grover sighed into Juniper's shoulder as she profusely pleaded with Percy to forgot the last morning, and he noticed Harvey clearing his throat.

"Harvey, I—" he tried not to choke on his guilt. "I'm so sorry," he whispered hoarsely.

Harvey shook his head and answered, "I forgive you."

And then Will was taking his wrist to check his pulse and peering at his pupils, murmuring almost to himself, "How much Narcan did they give you? You're fully revived now?" Percy remembered he graduated from med school early and was a resident at the Presbyterian or somewhere else.

Frank was at his shoulder all of a sudden. "He looks tired. Percy, Jason's hotel is…" he trailed off at Leo's glare.

"Our guest room is free," Calypso offered. "We can head there now."

Percy numbly nodded as everyone came to say their goodbyes, and Calypso shooed them away with "You can visit when he's not sleeping, so give us some space!" He found himself doing the math, with the traffic it probably took two hours for him to get out of the ER, and Annabeth and Reyna would be exiting the JFK in three hours, plus however long it took them to get out of security. That would be just enough time for him to push a canoe into the Long Island Sound and paddle a few meters away from shore, if he managed to keep his eyes open.

"I'm dead," he muttered, and Leo had the audacity to wheeze before Calypso elbowed him.

"You're perfectly fine, Percy. I won't let you get to anything," Calypso said lightly.

"He's talking about Annabeth," Leo said through his chuckles.

"Oh. I think you'll be perfectly fine," she responded easily.

Percy remembered mustering a smile, and then falling asleep moments after he'd slipped into their Volkswagen. Now that he'd turned the tables, he supposed his withdrawal effects would be put off for later.

-line break-

Percy woke up to a glowing, awfully-sunny-for-December sky, and waited behind his door for a moment. He heard soft conversation, but it didn't help him identify anyone. Would New York look different at the arrival of Annabeth Chase and Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano?

He decided to check his phone as a last precaution. There were twenty texts, an expected amount from when he went missing, so airplane mode was still probably preventing Annabeth from blowing up his phone. Percy changed into a warm pair of sweatpants and a Valdezes's Auto Shop and Bakery hoodie folded onto the armchair and crept out of the guest room. He remembered Thalia saying something about the brick oven underneath heating up the whole apartment, and it was true, the woven carpet felt downright toasty under his feet.

Calypso spun at the sight of him and strode over, clutching two steaming mugs of tea. "Good morning, Percy. Did you sleep well?"

He yawned. He'd spent a chunk of the night unconscious, so he found he wasn't actually that tired then. "I think so."

She grinned. "Good. You've got guests here to see you."

Percy felt a stab of panic in his gut, and his blood froze over.

"Aquaman, you up?" Leo yelled as Calypso led Percy into the living room. There was a wide-eyed wonder to his voice, and Percy soon discovered it was because he sat sandwiched between Annabeth and Reyna.

Reyna commanded the loveseat, her back stock-straight, and she looked like she swept out of a conference room in the Ritz-Carlton or somewhere in her purple suit jacket, perfectly ironed slacks, and crisp golden shirt. Strands of her hair were curling from her braid and resting against her cheeks, but there was no other sign of the flight or any other hassle. Her pocketknife was held out, and she kept pushing the blade in and out of the guard. Flick. Her skull ring flashed in the dawn. Flick. Reyna's dark eyes raised to Percy's. Flick.

On the other side of Leo, who he was not-so-clandestinely leaning away from, huddled Annabeth under a warm blanket, with a silk maroon collar peeking out from under her Columbia sweatshirt. It was the one she wore to the Stanford lecture, Percy realized. Despite how at home on the Valdezes's couch she appeared, she was white-knuckling her mug of tea, and her expression when she glanced up had been iced over with fear. At the sight of him, she released a silent breath and a dam seemed to shatter, but in a blink the open book was shut.

Flick. Reyna's knife slide into the guard with finality, and she crossed the living room in a few steps. She stopped not a foot from where Percy was frozen in the doorway. She was close enough for him to see the staccato rise of her chest under her shirt, smell a sharp, simple perfume on her neck, feel the warm sunny heat of the West Coast emanate from her. She was close enough to deliver a painful punch to his jaw, unsheathe her pocketknife somewhere fatal, or shove him down. Percy realized he missed the inscrutable darkness of her eyes.

"Percy," she said, too soft for anyone else to hear. Her voice was a little different than the one in his memories, lighter and scratchier, only roughened on the edges, and so suddenly familiar. He distantly heard Annabeth shifting on the couch, and his nervousness for_ that _conversation easily surpassed Reyna. "This again?"

Calypso dragged Leo away, murmuring, "Let's give them some space" and Annabeth was staring distractedly into her mug.

He was choking on pain, hysterics, excitement. "I tried," he responded at the same volume, because he had no good argument to offer Reyna.

She tilted her head slightly. "What happened?" Her firm confidence in him, her unwillingness to believe it was simply her addiction, stunned him more than a hit between the eyes would've.

He smiled bitterly. "Annabeth," he mouthed.

"Ah." Her lips lifted. For once, he was okay with her teasing smile.

"I mean, no. Nothing actually happened. I just believed," he raised his eyes to the ceiling, "that she could save me. But I have to deal with my problems."

Reyna seemed surprised at the rush of confessions. Percy realized he would've never said any of that a year ago. Less than a year ago. And maybe he should've been more careful unburdening himself to people other than Annabeth, or worried about appearing weak, but he didn't. Reyna was talking to him again.

She leaned in. "This seems kind of like Rachel."

"Yeah." Except Reyna was still talking to him. He had to fight away a smile. "Um, sorry about all that. I should've listened to you."

Reyna shook her head. "It's okay. Keep trying," she finally said.

This time, he didn't trust himself with only a one-word answer. He wanted to blurt everything out to Annabeth, but there was of course the elephant in the room.

"I'll leave you the room, then."

The end of her braid grazed against his arm, and Annabeth looked up. She smiled slightly. Percy slowly unglued his feet from the ground and sat down where she gestured. He tried his best to keep from jostling or brushing against her.

"I'm sorry, Annabeth." He found himself scratching his inner arm.

Up close, he could see bags under her eyes. "You don't need to apologize to me," she said lightly, no-nonsense.

"But…" he closed his eyes for a moment, and he saw her handmade candle's flame twitching in front of sparklers on his one-week sober cupcake. The usual vivacity of her grin, her fingertip on his pulse. "No. I'm sorry for letting you down, for worrying you, for making you stay up."

"Percy, I'm choosing to worry." Her eyes locked on his. "I'm always keeping hope for you. Nothing you do can take it away."

He let out a shaky breath. A minute ago, he wanted things to go back to normal, now he wanted to push her away. Did he want to find out what would finally break her? How could she be waiting for _him_? "I can't fix myself."

She leaned back, and he thought the circle they kept going through was going to break. And it did, just not the way he expected. "I'm broken, too, Percy." She smiled achingly. "Everyone is."

Slowly, ever so carefully, he felt a finger touch his. She waited for his reaction, and when he kept breathing cautiously, too nervous to stir the air, covered his hand with hers.

"I don't know if you can fix yourself. The only thing you can do is pick yourself up."

He could see, somehow reflected in her eyes, the same journey. Laying wide-eyed at night, watching clouds pass through the dark sky, running to the alley on his shifts at the grocery to throw up, living with an empty hole inside of him, like somebody carved part of his life out. Was exhaustion a symptom, or did he innately want to turn and slam the door?

"No." He whispered.

She suddenly looked away. Percy felt something plunge inside him, and his ocean flooded with fear of her disappointment, but she only said, "I know, Percy. I know."

Annabeth set down her half-empty mug and placed her face in her hands. Percy immediately stiffened. He didn't know how to deal with—what to even do and in the back of his mind the idea passed that he should call Calypso, but she straightened and fixed her bun.

"Piper told me you guys watched my speech." She slid her eyes back to him, still mostly speaking tonelessly. "I said cognitive dissonance was an issue I was going through in college, but it's never over." She twisted her mouth into a smile. "I don't listen to myself and my pride battles rational thought. I know best," she said in an exaggerated voice, "and I know better than fact."

"It's," he faltered, "okay."

Her smile looked a little more real. "I'm sorry, I should've—" she cleared her throat. "I need to walk you through everything."

Percy rubbed his eyes. "I could've considered more." He could guess what was coming, and he didn't exactly want to face it.

"I never mentioned a rehabilitation center because I thought it would be more painful. To be separated from everyone else." She knew him to a fault. "But it's harder to have nothing in the way but the people you care about. Right?"

"I can't let myself think about anyone, and the guilt is driving me back."

Annabeth rested her head on the top of the couch. "But I know they're not pretty. I guess I wanted to keep you close." She whispered the last part, so softly he wondered if he imagined it.

He glanced away. "Maybe it'll work out. I can't fight anymore, and I can't be letting everyone down again."

"Percy," she smiled faintly. "The fighting doesn't end."

Percy groaned, but with a laugh. He accidentally bumped her hand, and she simply retracted it, and everything from yesterday was flooding up. Which still made him want to groan. "Um." He wanted to glance away, and his heart was speeding up. "I have something to say."

"Yeah?" It was like her eyes were doing a study on him.

He blurted out, "Did you get my letter?"

"Oh." She nodded. "Yeah, I believe you handed it to me." She quirked a grin.

"Right." He paused, and she moved in to diffuse the awkwardness.

"By the way, Percy, I hate to break it to you, but that wasn't a thousand cranes." She reached for her bag on the ground and delicately lifted out the string of cranes. It looked like she was holding a waterfall.

Percy took it back and thought forlornly that his wish wasn't coming true. Not that he really believed it would.

"Thank you for writing it, though," she said, with her usual brilliant smile.

It just contained a short and horribly unpoetic message saying how much he appreciated her influence in his life. And that she was a great friend. He hoped he wasn't blushing.

There was suddenly a crash in the kitchen, and a puff of air followed by ominous crackling. "Don't hurt me!" Leo yelped.

Percy jumped up, Annabeth muttering behind him, "I suppose we'll have to deal with that." Calypso and Reyna were both occupied with murderously zeroing in on Leo, so Percy grabbed a mixing bowl and set it under the tap, and then lobbed it at the flaming kitchen table.

"Now I know I'm back in New York," Annabeth said with a cheeky grin. "Was that all you had to say?"

Percy bobbed his head and turned her to the yelling match.

-line break-

They were still trying to wipe away the scorch marks on the kitchen table when the doorbell rang. Leo had shut the place down for the day, so they turned towards the door in confusion.

And then Hazel's clear voice called out, "Can we see Percy?"

Everyone turned to him, and then Calypso contemptuously threw down her rag and headed to the door.

Hazel and Frank were both bound up in scarves and hats, and Hazel awkwardly clutched a foil plate in her gloved hands. "Sorry," she winced. "I know this isn't a…thing, but I didn't want to show up empty-handed."

Frank immediately took the dish away, like he wanted to take away anything that would cause her to be uncomfortable, and handed it to Calypso. Reyna was still scrubbing at the table. "It's blueberry pie."

Leo glanced at it with interest while Annabeth beckoned them in and collected their coats. Percy bit his lip. "Thanks, you guys. But, um, you didn't need to come here or anything."

Frank shook his head. "We wanted to see you, man."

"We should've been there," Hazel said quietly.

"No!" He protested. "It was my choice, and I was pretty set on it."

Annabeth came back from the coat rack and stood beside Percy. He tried to not sigh in relief. "Thanks for coming all this way," she said with the hosting ability of Cecil.

Hazel was still smiling with a guilty edge. "Of course."

A fantasy of leaning against Annabeth flashed through his mind, and he quickly wiped it away. They excused themselves to talk with Leo and Calypso, and there was a knock. Percy leapt to get it.

Jason and Piper stood on the landing. Piper was chewing on a sugar-dusted croissant she probably lifted from the bakery. They were sharing a smile, but their expressions morphed at seeing Percy. Jason's blond eyebrows drew together in worry, and now Piper seemed contrite and hid the croissant behind her back. "Hey Perce," Jason said. He looked him over.

"I'm alright," Percy asserted before he could say anything.

"Good." Jason ran a hand over his cropped hair. "It's just that…Will said—"

"I mean it," Percy said the same time as Piper elbowed him.

"Okay." He nodded like he was trying to convince himself. Piper led the way inside, and like usual, they were dressed way too lightly for winter and had no coats for Percy to hold and leave with. Jason clearly could tell his fiancé had something to say and went over to talk to Hazel.

"So," Piper raised an eyebrow. "How did it go with them?" She gestured to Annabeth, talking and cleaning up the table.

"Not too bad," he said with a small smile she immediately mirrored. "No thanks to you."

Piper shrugged. "Just doing what I should." She paused, her blueish-green eyes falling to the ground. "You know you can tell me…if you're feeling…low."

He knew that, but he could never do so. He didn't want them to get involved. "Yeah." Percy met her cautious gaze, now a little brown. "Annabeth and I were talking. I might go to rehab."

Her eyebrows rocketed. "Really? That's great."

"I hope."

"You know what, let's sit down." Piper pointed to the living room, and he thought he would have to go through the same thing again, but she plopped down on the carpet. Percy settled into the beanbag she kicked over.

She ran her fingers through the choppy ends of her hair. "I'm really sorry, Perce, we can't stay here with you."

He blinked, and her words rushed out faster.

"Jason's company needs him back, and spring comes early in California so that camping thing I'm doing has training in a few weeks and we'll have to head back."

He'd almost forgotten about that. She would probably be great at teaching those kids Cherokee tradition. "Oh."

"I can't believe we're leaving at the perfectly wrong time."

"It's fine," he heard himself say. "I'll probably be in rehab."

She gave him a bracing smile. "Hazel and Frank have a long vacation, they'll go back in February." She suddenly sprang to life and started fishing for something in her pocket. She took out a crumpled business card, and Percy had mild déjà vu when he remembered Annabeth's, but this one had a blurry picture of the sea. "It's the surfboard renting place. Check it out and tell me how it went, 'kay?"

"'Kay," he replied, fighting down a sudden bitter surge.

She got up and headed to the kitchen, and Percy followed a few steps behind. Grover had come in the meantime, and he was saying hi to everyone. Percy exchanged nods with him, and he knew it was going to be alright, even if he didn't deserve it. Jason's hand went to the small of Piper back as he chatted with Annabeth.

The door of the bathroom opened, and Reyna moved over to Percy. "Did something happen?"

Before he could reply, Jason slowly turned around and his eyes grew huge. "Reyna?" he asked.

Reyna tensed, almost like she wanted to get away.

"Whoa," Grover whispered.

Percy wanted to laugh at how Piper seemed to instinctively stand closer to Jason, weaving her fingers in his, except Leo was already doing that for him. That was the hand Jason wore his ring on. _Reyna has never been interested in anyone, ever,_ he wanted to tell her, except he had no idea what was going on.

"How do you know her?" Piper asked Jason.

Reyna, too, crossed her arms, waiting for his explanation.

"She's my friend from college," he said slowly. "Why are you here?"

"I've known Percy since he was a kid," she answered coolly.

"Oh." His gaze flicked back and forth between them. "Then why did you never—" Piper elbowed him again. Percy thanked her magical ability to read emotions.

Annabeth cleared her throat, and it was loud in the silence. "Let's give them the space." Leo shuttled them all down into the shop, because he still had some cars to be working on.

And then there was small smash in the bakery, and they spun around to see Thalia guiltily clutching a whole case of chocolate donuts. Annabeth went over to fix the mess, and they headed out a few moments later with Thalia licking her fingers.

Percy hoped the, well, hope wasn't showing too much on his face.

"I'm only here now because stupid criminals never take a break." She lightly commented, looking away from Percy. "I just caught a wannabe serial killer."

"Oh," Frank said politely. Piper asked her for a donut, which she complacently handed over. When Grover tried the same, he got none.

"I'm only here to deliver a message from my cuz." This was finally directed to Percy, in a flat tone. "He says to be careful who you take on rides with."

Percy felt his heart stop. Annabeth stood forward.

"Hey," she said, almost sternly to Thalia. Percy wondered if Nico told Thalia the story.

Thalia simply crossed her arms.

"What?" Calypso carefully ventured.

Percy felt Thalia's diamond-hard gaze on him. "Something I'll have to settle with Nico."

Thalia flicked her eyebrows up in surprise or annoyance and pushed herself up onto a gleaming Cadillac with a chocolatey hand. Leo yelped like he was stabbed, and the tension thinned slightly.

Leo was waving Calypso's rag around and shrieking stuff at a pitch Percy couldn't quite understand. Finally, with an annoyed harrumph, she slid off, and turned to Annabeth. "You went to see Mr. Frederick, Annie. Did he tell you what good memories of me he has?"

Annabeth tried to casually lean against an old Jeep and tilted her head. "No, I missed him. He did tell me on the phone call that I should stay away." She grinned teasingly.

Piper snorted, but Thalia's gaze darted to Percy for a moment. Then she grinned widely and said, "I know he thinks of my visit every day."

"I don't doubt it," Annabeth deadpanned dryly. "You ruined five of his Civil War models."

"What?!" Grover said.

Thalia went on to recount all the havoc she created in the Chase household, but Percy was only then realizing Annabeth must've meant to see her dad before she was called back…. because he overdosed. He knew family may not have been as important to him as it was for everyone, but if he had a chance to see his mother, he wouldn't have given it for anything. He stared at Annabeth's amused, easygoing smile as she listened to Thalia. How much did he mean to her?

"That's nice," Hazel told Thalia, looking a little shaken.

Jason opened the door to the Valdezes' apartment. "Hey, you guys can come back up." Leo had fully disappeared inside a car, and Piper nabbed some more pastries before they headed up the stairs. Jason's shoulders were a little slumped, in sadness or relief Percy couldn't tell, and Reyna was slightly flushed, but all their limbs and the furniture was intact so they probably didn't have a fight.

"Percy, where are you staying tonight?" Reyna asked him.

His stupid impulses from yesterday almost had him blurting, "Annabeth's apartment" but he swallowed that down. "My place, probably."

Calypso turned. "No, you can sleep here. It's nice to have some company for a change."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, but she didn't elaborate. Reyna opened her hands. "I'm going wherever you are."

Percy was stunned at how much time Reyna was suddenly giving to him, or even this public display of concern. "I guess here."

Calypso grinned, and Annabeth gave him a mockingly annoyed glare. "So you'll agree to her," she teased softly. "Then I'd also like to sleep here."

Calypso's grin grew wider, and Grover smirked at Percy behind Annabeth's back.

-line break-

Jason put a hand on Percy's shoulder, and Percy didn't flinch this time. "I wish we could stay, man."

"Me too," Percy allowed himself to admit.

"I think you'll be fine without me," he said with a good-natured grin. "We'll come back the next break we get."

"Make sure it's within my visiting hours," he said without a trace of bitterness.

Jason nodded. "Of course. I hope it gets better." His vivid blue eyes were serious.

"Me too," Percy could only repeat.

Jason leaned in, and he smelled like sun and rain and coppery electricity. "Maybe it's not time yet, but don't wait for the perfect moment. Just act when you're feeling brave enough."

Percy felt a little heady from his smell and the realization that even Jason knew how Percy felt when he pulled back. "Thank you," he managed.

Jason grinned his toothpaste commercial smile, tugging on the little scar under his lip. "Pipes decided we're getting married in the late spring. Can you be my best man?"

Percy gaped. "But—but we're not—what?" he spluttered.

"Come on. I can't think of anyone else." His smile was so earnest and sunny Percy could feel it glittering off his inner ocean.

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled.

Piper, who had been waiting for their conversation to end, swooped in. "Is a hug okay?"

"Of course." She lightly wrapped her arms around him, and he awkwardly brushed her back with the tips of his fingers, but she pulled away and smiled like it wasn't the most terrible hug ever.

"Have lots of fun there," she ordered. "Figure out how to not drown the next time we meet. And tell me when your estranged friends have had some interesting relationships with my fiancé, okay?"

Percy laughed and decided not to protest at the second part. He'll show her. "Right."

Grover came from Harvey's side. "I'm supposed to be hanging out with Juniper," he said embarrassedly.

"No, it's fine." Percy had already told him about the possibility of rehab, and Grover clearly had no idea what to make of it, and he knew they would talk about that later. He was also grateful that they were now the kind of people to schedule talks about "mushy stuff." "Go have a nice time."

"I'll see you tomorrow at work?"

"Yeah, if you can peel yourself away from her." They exchanged grins as Percy nudged him.

They began bundling up, and Percy said goodbye to Frank and Hazel, and then they were gone. At some point earlier, Harvey had arrived to help Leo out with the cars, and now he was puttering around the kitchen with Calypso, eagerly examining all her spices.

Soon Calypso carried out bowls of borscht, and Leo frowned at all the vegetables in it as Annabeth set out the cutlery. Harvey was still lording over a giant saucepan and Calypso was sticking something in the oven, but they told them to eat first since Leo complained he was starving.

Percy moved his spoon around. He was feeling too excited to eat, or maybe anticipatory of whatever was going to happen this night. "Where did you go to college?" he finally asked Reyna.

She elegantly dabbed her mouth with the handkerchief. "New Rome University, in San Francisco."

Leo was leaning his head on one elbow and leering. "So, did you and Sparky," he waggled his eyebrows.

Reyna face remained stony. "No," she answered flatly to anything he could be insinuating.

Leo dropped his head and stabbed at the cabbage in his soup.

"What do you do for work?" Percy asked. Annabeth suddenly grinned, and he realized they must've talked on the plane and maybe there was some story there. It was weird to think that she knew more than him about Reyna.

"I'm a prosecutor at the Jupiter law firm. I'm the co-founder," Reyna said coolly.

Leo dropped his spoon, and Percy figured it must've been famous enough for Leo to know, even if he'd never heard of it. But Annabeth inclined her head.

"I worked at the same firm as Ms. Wickerstein. The lawyer who was getting after your case last time. She noticed some tax abnormalities," Reyna raised her eyebrows sharply, "and thought your overdose could be evidence of drug trafficking."

"What?" Leo squawked, but Percy had good practice at keeping a straight face and Annabeth and Reyna ignored him.

"I presented her with some more serious cases, but she was sued on one of them, so the firm dropped her. One of the interns under her division helped me start Jupiter."

In the few months Percy was getting high and then trying to quit, Reyna had apparently founded an extremely famous law firm.

"What about you?" She turned to Percy.

"I work at a grocery," he said. "And that's it."

"Really?" she murmured appraisingly. It clearly was not the normal reaction, and Leo's eyebrows were disappearing into his curly hair.

"I don't know about Chris," Percy said with a shrug. "But Grover and I are full-time there."

"I see." She nodded and Annabeth gave Percy a smile from her side of the table.

"I have shepherd's pie," Calypso announced, bringing over the glass dish with mitted hands. Annabeth cut out slices for them.

"I'm taking a break for as long as I need," Reyna told him, handing over her plate. "I shouldn't have waited so long to see you again."

Percy breathed out a puff of air, trying to maintain eye contact. "I never apologized." He felt a grin pull across his face.

"And I was too stubborn," she said lowly. She motioned for him to move closer. "I missed you, Percy."

The words, whispered into his ear, sent a small tingle down his spine. Was Reyna actually getting soft before his eyes? "I missed you too."

Annabeth had been exchanging grins with Calypso, and she set down his plate when they moved apart. "So, do you want to start looking tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Only five-star rehabs for me," he joked.

Harvey came out of the kitchen with a grilled chicken salad, at which point Percy realized they were mostly eating vegetables, and they filled up all the seats around the dining table. Calypso told them the blueberry pie was getting warmed up in the oven, and Percy suddenly thought of a Thanksgiving dinner. But it was just Calypso and Harvey making a homemade meal, and it was nice, and he thought he could get through with another day.

**Another benchmark! **

**Edit alert: Some changes in Ch. 16 (but this right after I posted it) to explain his flashbacks. Also a shoutout in Ch. 19's A/N, there's a really good recommendation there ****. **

**Review replies:**

**Guest: Ah, thank you! Yeah, he's going to be coming to terms with his addiction for a long, long time. Sorry I take so long to update, I hope I'll make you wait a little less in the future. And thank you so much for calling this good work! I try ****.**

**MrGilborg: Hello! I swear, I just love replying to your reviews. Yeah, you're right, I haven't actually put much thought into the other characters' development, and in my perspective, not enough with Percy's either…. but I totally agree with you about Annabeth. I don't know how I thought it would be a good idea for her to be a flat character, but I have made a plan for that and it's hopefully going to work out. Don't worry, seeing as she's the other main character here, she's not inherently this simple. I think I've said this already, I've started out with a very different plan for this fic, and then decided that was stupid and unrealistic, so some stuff is still changing. There were **_**so many **_**places where I wanted to have her share or show something but her character will just have to progress naturally, which means slowly ****. And thank you so much, the section where they were watching the speech did take some editing, and I'm glad you liked it! I was trying to show how ADHD and the general personalities of everyone should distract them from that kind of talk, except Percy wants to pay attention and his friends start annoying him, and yeah, it was fun to write. I have several turning points in mind, not going to spoil but one is coming very soon and it shouldn't be too long until he shares his story. And thank you so much for saying this has a good balance! I'm glad this isn't utterly tame, and I've edited some stuff so hopefully you'll have a better experience rereading. As a romantic, I am holding out hope that it's possible for a love story to happen within an addiction, but yeah, I'm aware (now, anyway, probably not when I started) it's highly unlikely. Hopefully you liked the minor character development here, and won't have as long of a wait this time.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Sorry, my updating has been horrible. I'm not even busy…oh well school starts soon and my procrastination will most definitely make me write more ;) (apparently none of my smiley/wink-y faces have appeared before, they will now). By the way, the last benchmark Chapter 20 was probably the last filler y'all will get. Say goodbye! *smiles nervously* From now on, the pacing might get a little fast, and the length of these chapters, but I'm so excited for this.**

**Enjoy! **

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: Licorice can be made from the licorice root extract or anise, which shares a flavor but different properties. The candy is one of the oldest, and licorice root has been used since the Ancient Egyptians for medical properties. However, there are also many risks from eating the root or consuming a large amount of black licorice, which can be avoided by checking the ingredients. One of the main benefits is that it may improve cholesterol and the candy includes a very low amount of fat per serving. _

Reyna still slept incredibly lightly. Whenever he got up to drink some water, escape the ticking of the guest room's clock, grab some Tylenol for his muscle pain, clean up something for Calypso and Leo, Reyna woke. And his insomnia was the worst of his withdrawal, so he was never still.

Perhaps he should've been grateful that it wasn't too sharp. "Acute," the brochure or Annabeth's textbook term was. The worst hit in the night, the first time Reyna rolled out a comforter on the floor of the Valdezes' guest room, when he started marking time by the pad of Annabeth's footsteps to grab a glass of almond milk before bed, the last night Harvey huddled out in their hallway even when offered the living room. He had a mind-numbing wave of anxiety that kept him up. That was still there, in a quiet, resting form, and he still watched the clouds skirt across the thin strip of moonlight under the curtains, but it was better than before.

He couldn't remember how long he had been lying there with his hands folded over his aching stomach like a corpse and watched the outline of a sunrise seeping through Calypso's woven curtains. He wondered if one of the stages of nirvana could be peacefully dwelling with boredom.

The last time he had willfully woken up so early was probably when he was a little kid. Torpedoing around the apartment and shrieking with all his energy and usually racing into his mom's bedroom to get smacked with a pillow.

The clock read six when Reyna rolled over on her floor mattress. She was probably awake earlier, since she had an absurd work schedule and something against sleep in general, but Percy had sobbed about how guilty he felt one awkward game night and now they all tiptoed around him. She actually did sleep like a corpse though, so he couldn't be sure.

Her eyes glowed darkly. "Good morning," she said softly. Her voice was always wide-alert.

Even her attention could make him worried. He wished he could meet her without this permanent anxiety that she would turn him away, that she would give him what he deserved. He knew it was the withdrawal, but he also worried it wasn't. Because he wouldn't stop worrying.

"Hello," he replied, keeping his mouth halfway closed like he could make the word smaller. That she would somehow notice him less.

"You want to get up?" Reyna murmured.

He shrugged; he knew she could somehow see everything in the semi-dark.

"Another visit today." It sounded more like a command. He knew it probably wasn't, but there was definitely some urgency for him to settle down with one rehab. To appear like a potential customer they would pay attention to, though the dark circles under his eyes and general hopeless air helped, but he didn't stand out enough. Of course, Reyna's standards for him weren't to be some Ivy League college applicant, but he felt like they were. They'd visited three in the past two days, and it certainly wasn't the best experience. And there was Annabeth on the other side of the process, who would make the final call, and was a little hesitant about doing so.

"Yeah," he whispered. He looked at the tangled mess of his sheets. "Um. Can I—we go outside?" he breathed softly.

Reyna's expression said _no_, but she kept silent, like she was waiting for him to explain.

"Not that." He wished the obvious intent would stop hanging over them, because he seemed to remember that was a normal question. He would never dream of getting high with Reyna there. She would probably push him in front of a speeding taxicab before he could enter the basement room. Or pull out her handy pocketknife. _She's probably still angry at me; she could hate me and she's decided to be nice but she still hates me inside…_

"What?" Reyna asked, almost tiredly.

Percy rolled up to stare at the ceiling. "I don't know." A long pause where he tried to say what he actually did know. "There's a candy shop. Moms." It was supposed to be "my mom's," but he whispered that part too quickly, nervously.

"And do what?"

_Shoot heroin together, _he wanted to reply sarcastically, except he stopped feeling funny a few days ago. Precisely, three days ago, the last time he slept at night. Though even then, he woke up early to daydream about Annabeth… "Eat candy?" The obvious was now running away from them.

Reyna might have snorted. "Junk food," she reminded him.

Percy wanted to pull the "pity-me" act, but he was scared she would actually do so. Or get tired and annoyed of him. "Right."

"We can still go." Reyna paused. "Bring a salad along if you get tempted."

He felt a small laugh growing in him.

She got up and rummaged in her suitcase for clothes. "Hurry up and change, we'll grab breakfast outside." There was a gentle whir as her phone switched to silent. She left the door open by a slit—before the click could wake everyone up—as she left for the bathroom.

He didn't want to get out of bed. He thought this was a bad idea. They couldn't even do anything there, and whoever the owner was now would have to kick them out. Sweet on America might not even be standing. Or it could be the most popular store in the area, and everyone would witness him sobbing as he saw the tubs of blue gummy sharks. But Reyna had no patience with mood swings, at that, he wasn't willing to test it, so he elbowed himself off the bed to the set of drawers. They were only filled with three changes of clothes, which was all he had for winter, and the tiny bundles of his socks looked so unfortunate in the heavyset drawer as long as his arm.

Reyna was waiting in the kitchen, the sheen of splashed water on her face. Her in-a-rush luggage was apparently good enough for a month of hiking or business meetings, so she was in a purple wraparound top and a black overcoat. She handed him his jacket and ever-so-carefully unlocked the front door. "Salad?" she questioned softly in the blast of cold air, angling her body so none would reach Annabeth in the living room.

Percy shook his head. He didn't want to feel more insecure holding a Tupperware box on the subway. He simply set his phone to charge by the fridge when he realized there was 2% left.

They lightly pushed the door back. The ding of the elevator ricocheted around the still hallway. The sky still had that cold-washed feeling, and everyone around them carried a vaguely sleepy gaze, like they were still dreaming. Reyna paid for a cream cheese and smoked salmon bagel with arugula (she was rich like that) and even demanded her sesame seeds be toasted on the toasted bagel. Percy didn't know gourmet food carts existed. She passed him a large chunk and washed down the rest with fresh-roasted Brazilian coffee.

Percy kept nibbling as they rode the subway to the candy shop. Percy knew the directions by heart. Reyna set her high-heeled boots down lightly underground, like she wanted to avoid touching dirtiness as much as possible. She also insisted on standing, though they rarely found available seats. They must've looked like a redoubtable pair, the Puerto Rican boss lady with gold hoops and the washed out, scrawny dude sagging against the railing and clutching his scrap of a bagel in wax paper.

Reyna cleared her throat. "How was Nico?"

Percy closed his eyes. The only time they left him alone in the past few days was last afternoon, in Nico's apartment, though Annabeth patrolled the hallway while Reyna took the streets. He finally understood the comment about his décor, it was a literal tomb crossed with a Goth party. They both winced when Nico pulled back the black drapes. But Percy suspected he could've also been talking about the bright yellow mug hanging over the sink, or some other rather ill-fitting household items around the place Nico probably forgot to hide.

Percy sighed. "He didn't have much to say." Nico held grudges easily. Percy had been handed a once-in-a-blue-moon olive branch, and he threw it away.

Reyna nodded and looked away. She would never give comforting advice. "He didn't say anything to me. Has he always been like this?"

There was a get-together, last afternoon, because Percy had a curfew now. The gang, out on Clarisse's balcony. Percy would never admit that the thought of jumping off crossed his mind a few times during that meeting. The Stolls brought alcohol, and Connor almost fell off multiple times. Reyna only really paid attention to Nico, even though she and Dakota apparently had some history in San Francisco. "Not exactly."

Reyna nodded again. The why was altogether too obvious.

The subway was slowing down, and Reyna was physically steeling herself against the mass migration outside. The crowd of early commuters was small, but it still squeezed. Percy led the way to the open world and around a couple of streets before stopping at the big, shiny, glass-fronted Sweet on America.

Reyna didn't take the next step. "Do you want to go in?"

There was traffic on the roads, the streets, and people heading in and out. Pedestrians were already swerving around them. "Yeah, I want to take a look around," he murmured.

The ache behind his eyes started as he breathed in the dusty powdered sugar smell and the doorbell rang above them. The cashier, with a perky blond ponytail and pink bubblegum lip gloss, offered a bag. Percy stood, startled, staring at her hand until Reyna slowly took it.

"Pick what you want and weigh it here," she said, her smile only barely faltering.

Percy wanted to push it back because he couldn't even pick out anything, and he didn't want to anymore. A smooth pool of blue M&Ms cupped in his hands were nothing like his mother's touch but very suddenly seemed like it. Reyna strode on ahead to observe the licorice whips and Percy slowly trailed behind her.

He didn't have the right to change his mind suddenly. Reyna curiously reached for the nearby scoop of cherry gummies. They wandered the shop, which had clearly long since remodeled. Everything was set out in glamourous glass display cases, with those heavy tops and elaborate swirl designs. A tiny café in the corner sold peppermint lattes, and there were no longer plastic taste-test dishes with toothpicks to pull leftovers from. Percy imagined her scent still lingering in the lemony-yellow walls.

Reyna picked up a box of Tic Tacs on the way back to the counter. Her sleek wallet unfolded like a treasure box, and Reyna impassively lifted one credit card. Percy felt the taste of hunger crawl into his mouth. He looked away.

"I don't want to go home," he answered when they were out on the street, clenching his jaw. He was almost drooling; his bagel piece completely forgotten. It was like he was a toddler again, demanding what he liked and didn't. His mom rarely indulged his requests.

She tapped a Tic Tac into her mouth. "What?" she asked, her tone brooking no room for "I don't know."

He blearily looked around at their surroundings. The work rush was starting, and crisp collars and flapping ties and mile-high heels cluttered his sight. "The Park," he blurted off the top of his head and loosely gestured over.

Reyna nodded and sliced through the crowd. Central Park had emptied some more since the weather took a turn for the worse, but the cold wind biting at Percy's cheeks had to compete with every single other muscle of his aching, so they fell in ranks with the hardcore/insane shirtless joggers on the walking path. They passed a bench by the tall, leafless trees, and a turn for the lake, but Reyna continued striding. Percy was already a little winded and very sore, but he expected nothing less.

"What was that?" she asked crisply.

"Memories. Family. You know." Around Reyna, it was somehow easy to admit his mistakes, pour out what was going on with Annabeth, maybe because they stood as apologies. But he avoided confessions around her other than that. They were like this, and it was comfortable.

"Sentimental," she commented offhandedly.

He turned to look at her. She was right, of course. He brought them all across the city on a small whim, for an even smaller trip. Had he always been so emotional? "When you talk with Annabeth so much," he began, "I'm processing a lot. I'm trying to remember everything." Almost everything. "She likes surprises."

Reyna raised her eyebrows like, _Of course._

"Though I sometimes wonder if she plans it all." He chuckled lightly under his breath. "But she'd probably say talking through it is better than doing something to escape or hoard an emotion."

"Is that why you were gardening for so long?"

Percy choked out a smile. He had the talk with Grover the very first day of his "imprisonment" at the Valdezes' residence. He empathetically agreed it was for the best, but he was sad. Percy wasn't at the crying stage of his withdrawal yet, but they both shed some tears in Grover's kitchen. "You know, you were welcome to join."

Grover had watched this sci-fi movie where an astronaut converted all his living area to growing crops, and he wanted to do the same to send oxygen into the atmosphere. His bathtub, the majority of his living room, and his fire escape (that he technically did not own) had tiny little sprouts shooting up in haphazard rows, and Percy offered to put on some gardening gloves and pack compost around the little buggers. Of course he almost fell asleep head-first into a bed of soil, and he'd spilled used coffee grounds all over the carpet, and Reyna got a dirt stain on her cream-colored coat that she at least didn't complain about, to her credit. They even successfully installed vines in jars or plastic bottles on the ceiling of his closet-bedroom. Grover seemed completely apathetic at the notion of being hit by a falling Snapple bottle, stream of water, or a freakishly long vine. They might've been doing it because it was therapeutic, like Annabeth would probably try to argue, but Percy couldn't handle the way Grover was looking at him. At least he would smile at his new "babies."

Reyna gave him a small grin. "I kill plants by touching them."

She could probably say the same with people. He tried to savor the moment where she was so curious about him. "It's the longest time in a while we'll be separated." Before she could try to come up with some sympathy or slap him, Percy cleared his throat. "Chris is going to be working with him again."

"Oh? What does he get to do? Janitor?"

"The reality is that he's going to be keeping my spot warm. But Chris is going to be making deliveries and driving out for our stock, so Pike will definitely prefer him."

Reyna shook her head. "Chris wouldn't stay. He hates anything that reminds him of the asylum."

Percy gawped. Was that a joke? Or was she insinuating Percy was crazy so she could make a quick getaway?

Whatever she saw in his eyes, she sighed and rolled her eyes.

Percy cleared his throat. "That last time I was at my place," and part of him still didn't want to call it that, but it sounded right, "Harvey was telling him about this liquor store. He seemed really interested in travelling to visit vineyards."

Reyna inclined her head. "That sounds fitting. Might get Clarisse away at times, too."

Percy let loose a genuine grin. "You've seen her for the first time in years."

"When the droughts aren't horrible, Napa Valley makes good wine. She could be coming my way." She grinned back.

She sounded like she belonged there, and she clearly did. Reyna would have to return. Maybe she said she would stay because Jason and Piper had just left him, because she felt bad for him, but there was so much keeping her from staying for long. Out of all of them, only Hazel's job had a Christmas break (though the time was generally a dull period with Frank's archery company, so he could tag along with her and just show up at the weekly conference calls), and for due reason. Jason had planes to design, Annabeth had people to counsel, and Reyna had murderers to prosecute. He couldn't keep everyone revolving around him.

Reyna easily settled into the silence, like only Percy could feel the awkwardness. She pried open the bag of candy.

"I'll have to sign in somewhere. Probably today." Even Calypso, who desperately wanted them as guests, had done some research and tentatively suggested he undergo in-patient care soon. Even if he detoxed by himself the first time and he was still standing today, she didn't want to take that risk.

"Yeah." She squirted hand sanitizer into her palm before pulling out a cherry and examining it. Reyna chewed off the bright-green stem first. "Should I prepare a farewell party?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I've talked to everyone already."

Reyna shrugged, and stared at him for a moment. "You're hesitating about leaving, aren't you?" She said it with a sigh, like the path to discussing his feelings was inevitable.

"I guess I don't want to leave society."

Her face was uncompromising. "What's so particularly good to you about it?" she replied, almost sardonically.

"The practice of being around people you know?" In one of the centers they'd visited, there were three bunk beds in a room. Percy still at least had his own place in his apartment, which he partially expected to be rented out to some other person by the landlord when he got out. But saying that was disillusioned, since Reyna completely started her life over when she…decided to get away from him…so he swallowed and looked away.

Reyna sighed sharply. "You're not backing down. You won't even have to pay your bills."

"Right. I know, I'm not thinking about it. Annabeth has picked her favorite location today." She always had a plan for everything.

Reyna turned to stare at him. "What's the problem?"

He imagined annoyance in her voice, like his problems were beneath her to voice. "I don't want to leave…whatever it is with us."

The last thing Reyna wanted to discuss would probably be his love life, but she succumbed. "You're not going to." Her gaze was flat.

Her reproach was pummeling him in the gut. "We're sentimental," he sighed. A thrill pushed into his rib cage at being a "we" with Annabeth.

Percy expected her to roll her eyes, but she only sidestepped into his way. Percy's crawl slowed to a stop. "Percy. Tell her."

He knew Reyna never cared for romance. Bianca sometimes snuck into movie theaters displaying chick flicks, and as they got older pretty much everyone was coupling up in the gang, but she kept a wide berth. He couldn't help raising his eyebrows.

"I'm not saying it so you two can have a happily ever after or whatever. I doubt anything will happen," she said frankly. "But you need to be authentic to her."

He nodded wryly. He usually heard that used to describe exotic dishes: "authentic tacos," or pirated movies. His honest self, he supposed.

Reyna slipped back into her spot, like that confrontation had not just happened. They passed the woodsy area of Central Park, and the wind carried the smell of bark and rotting leaves. A siren carried across the streets.

And then the sound grew louder. Reyna didn't visibly tense, but Percy was already breathing wheezily. A police car careened down the back road inside Central Park and neatly braked beside them.

Reyna folded her arms before the tinted window. Pine Evergreen relaxed as she saw them, and admittedly Percy was a little relieved it wasn't Thalia. "Percy," she rushed to say as she rolled down the window. "I need you at the precinct. Annabeth's penalty is getting decided."

-line break-

Reyna seriously considered getting in. Considering her no-contact policy, that was a great feat. Pine didn't look terribly intimidating with her green-streaked hair up in a bun and sloshing mug of hot chocolate, but she had the power to incriminate Reyna for violence on the streets, and whatever happened in her mysterious past.

But she had nothing to do with whatever was going on, so Percy could only awkwardly wave as she disappeared behind them. She could at least trust that a cop would keep Percy from rebounding.

"I don't know if she'd appreciate me telling you this," Pine hedged, rubbing the back of her neck, "but you should know at least what you're getting into. It has to do with us. She was looking for you." She gave Percy a remotely accusing look in the rearview mirror, which he tried not to drown in.

Pine decided to interrupt herself. "Okay, why didn't the two of you just accept her calls? Seriously, like, leave a note? I thought we'd have to send out a search party until another cop reported seeing you two on a walk." She raised her grass-colored eyebrows like that wasn't perfectly normal.

Percy's mind went blank when he realized what happened. His phone was still charging, and Reyna must've forgotten to put it off silent—she was never a fan of technology—and he saw her drop it into the heavily padded pocket of her coat. They assumed Annabeth would wake up at a more normal hour, and they would get back at late 7 o'clock. "Um." He said. "We were going to return soon."

Pine sighed and rested her chin on the wheel, accidentally releasing a bleep that got them panicked looks from everyone in the vicinity. She switched gears as the light changed. "Uh-huh. This doesn't look good. Was there any reason for Annabeth to look for you? Have you disappeared before, or is there something she would think you're doing?"

Percy wished he was actually a felon, sitting in the backseat, with the right to keep silent. Even if he would have to be hauled in—which Annabeth may have been. "She's my therapist, she might've thought I was…in danger." Percy swallowed heavily, because even the version of the truth sounded bad. "To myself."

Pine cleared her throat. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to force you. I just have one more question, and I'll stop. Have you gone missing before?"

"Yeah," he answered quietly.

Pine nodded, her eyes darting to the mirror one last time. "Thank you."

Percy didn't exactly want to know what happened, but he felt something clawing at her chest. "So, uh, what did she do?"

She breathed out. "I don't want you to think worse of her. She's like a sister to all of us at the precinct. She took Thalia's badge."

Percy could already imagine how easy that would be for her. But she didn't have the uniform, or even a gun—he didn't want to think about her getting arrested. "What happened?" he asked carefully.

"She didn't get far." Pine paused before a turn. "A new recruit stopped her. Santos is talking to her in the interrogation room now, because Lieutenant Grace is too close to the subject."

Percy sat in stunned silence for the rest of the ride. Pine tucked her phone between her shoulder and ear as she reported everything back to Santos in a low murmur. He'd guessed something like this would go down. But not Annabeth committing the crime.

They turned to the only concrete block building amidst skyscrapers and rundown "tough neighborhood" apartments. Tso worried face peered out from underneath her silver parka hood. Pine cleanly slid into a spot in the middle of other identical cars. Combat boots thudded against the pavement.

"What the deal?" Tso demanded.

Pine wrapped herself in a scarf and exited with her mug. "Pretty much nothing. But at least Annabeth wasn't being totally irritational."

They turned to stare at Percy, hunching to get out from under the doorway. Tso's face said the opposite. Percy trailed before the two silvery cops to the second, smaller square building, absentmindedly wondering if they really did live in those tents Annabeth designed.

There was a wider holding cell they passed on their way in, with a few grouchy-looking guys humming Christmas carols and bumping the bars with their knuckles to the tune, and stopped at the hall of interrogation rooms. Tso led them through a door, straight into the hidden listening room on the other side of a glass wall.

Inside the room itself, Santos was breathing a little shallowly and spinning her plastic Columbia pen. Annabeth sat completely still, her shoulders lowered, and her low ponytail looked was the shade of costume jewelry under the light. Lipara and Thalia straightened at Pine's arrival, both listening closely, though Thalia was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.

"Hello," Percy murmured. The all-girls factor of this precinct still was a little shocking. Their eyes raced to him. Thalia clenched her jaw and turned away..

Lipara straightened. "You can go in. Kelly, I mean Santos, is waiting for you."

Percy knocked. The door was solid wood, so he had no idea what was happening inside. Something was pushed across the table. Santos' clean-cut, professional voice rang out. "What is it?"

The other officers dodged away from the doorway so they wouldn't be caught peeping when Percy opened it. Annabeth's head was riveted in his direction, and when she saw him, her lips parted slightly as they turned downwards.

Kelly Santos' chair scraped back and she eagerly ushered him into a seat. "Percy," she said, her worried voice mingling with relief and gratitude, "Tell us what happened."

But he was only looking at Annabeth. She ran her hands through her hair, loosening the ponytail holder, and her eyes were fraught with guilt. "I wasn't thinking," she whispered, too softly for Santos to hear. "You have nothing to do with this."

Percy tried not to choke on bitter laughter. He could still remember the day after his overdose like it was yesterday, and he was hoping she wouldn't blame herself for it. What happened in that time?

"Just let this be okay," he responded without thinking. He really was becoming a toddler with no filter, asking the more responsible person to do the impossible for him.

But Annabeth only dipped her chin, like there wasn't anything else she would be doing.

Kelly coughed into her fist loudly. "So. Percy, Evergreen told me you were on a walk. You were with another woman, which Atlas identified as a Reyna Arellano-Ramírez. Annabeth told me you are all staying at a friend's place and could see you've left together. Would there be any reason for her to suspect you would," she held his gaze steadily, "be a threat to yourself around Ms. Arellano-Ramírez?"

Annabeth's eyes sidled over to him briefly. Percy couldn't try and understand what was going on, but what Pine said put something together for him. They wanted to see if Annabeth had a valid reason to take the badge—if not, could they possibly suspect she had other motives? Or something else?

"No. But Reyna has not been to New York in a while, and I've managed to lose other people before." He stupidly almost forgot to keep tight-lipped about her. The cops did not need to think about her.

Kelly nodded, still swinging her pen. "Is she a close acquaintance of yours? You two are rooming together, wouldn't she recognize any changes with you?"

Annabeth folded her hands with a frown. "Detective, may I speak?" she charged on ahead anyway. "That's not something even a good friend may be able to tell. Nevertheless, I admit I was acting senselessly. I accept whatever punishment you decide."

Kelly sat back in her chair and pushed the pen into her breast pocket. "That would be the hard part," she said with a bitter smile. "You two can head out first, I'll chat with Tso and Evergreen."

They were already waiting by the door. Tso offered Annabeth a small grimace that might've been a smile, and Pine simply ducked forward. Lipara was furiously typing on her phone and checking back and forth with a tablet, but she immediately shut all her devices off as Percy and Annabeth came over.

Thalia gave Annabeth a light brush on the shoulder. "There wasn't any harm done. They can't do anything to you."

Annabeth gave her a light nod in return. "Lipara, you can return to the main room. It's fine; I'll be fine." She spun back to Thalia when the door closed behind Lipara. "What's with the attitude?" she questioned, almost breezily.

Thalia arched an eyebrow. "I didn't realize I had an attitude. This is just how I am."

Percy's chest seized when he discovered they were talking about him. He wished he could be back in the soundproofed interrogation room.

"He doesn't deserve this," Annabeth said lowly, quickly. "What has he done to you?"

"I think you should be well-aware," Thalia snapped back. She slammed the door on the way out.

Annabeth averted her eyes. Percy felt a strong instinct to follow Thalia and run away, but staying with Annabeth won out.

"It's okay," he said in a rush. "I'm sorry for causing that." He held a hand up when she opened her mouth to protest. "Please?" He didn't know what he was asking for.

Annabeth sighed. "No, that has nothing to do with you."

But everything did. He felt a wave of acid ride across his stomach.

Annabeth rolled her shoulders. "I guess I owe you an explanation.

"I woke up around six. I had a meeting later on that I needed to prepare for. I noticed you two were gone, so I called." She mustered a smile for a moment. "Leo picked up from the kitchen. He was holding a lighter, I don't know what he wanted to do. I left before Calypso could get up and become worried." She looked away. "I had no idea where to go. The precinct is close to the shop, so I just called a taxi there. Thalia was really busy and told me she couldn't command a search party until you'd been missing for twenty-four hours." Her eyes refocused on him.

He knew it was his fault. She couldn't afford to wait for him. She also couldn't tell anyone else why it was urgent. There was definitely a list of places she would think to go; but she couldn't visit them all one by one.

"I should've let you know somehow." Maybe he'd never had someone show concern or care too much about his whereabouts before, but that was getting to be an old excuse. It was something that should've come through his sleep-deprived brain.

Annabeth let out an actual smile. "Percy, I'm just glad you're okay."

He almost felt like laughing; maybe he was feeling a little hysterical while a million worries about Annabeth's fate chased each other around in his head. "When I'm in rehab," he hesitated for a moment. "Maybe don't do this anymore?"

"Of course," Annabeth promised, holding her hands together.

"Great." Suddenly, he felt a little woozy. Percy leaned on the wall for support, and then bended over to vomit.

The door clicked open. "Annabeth, we've—"

-line break-

They wouldn't let him back into the interrogation room (a new one they relocated into, because the smell was so bad) until de Sol, a tanned girl with sunny blond hair, checked over him. Since the medical room was occupied by some criminal a certain cop had angrily knocked out earlier, Percy had to sit on the table under the stare of every Hunter and Captain Artemis as she hammered on his knee and pushed a Popsicle stick over his tongue. He was even forced to go outside with a bottle of mouthwash and spit into the bushes, because they only had a girls' bathroom and he refused to enter the jail cells for their toilets.

At least, thankfully, Annabeth was kept in the interrogation room, and he finally got to return to hear the verdict. Percy was directed to the main entrance that led straight into the tiny confined meeting room. The sense of being accused, for the second time that day, washed up. He tried not to lean too hard into it. The law had a purpose—and who was he to prance around in here with zero concern for their work?

The table was filled. Annabeth dropped a box of mints into his hand. Lipara tried not to stare as Tso made a humorous comment about how well-acquainted they were getting with his puking tendencies. Pine, sitting right across from him, raised her eyebrows. "Did de Sol give you some medicine with her _six years at Harvard Med School_?"

"You know, salty is not a good look for you," Lipara teased.

"What? Come on, she mentions it so often I assumed Percy had gotten an earful."

Santos waved a hand. "We've decided what should happen. Annabeth Chase, you must pay a fine of five hundred dollars. You should take that as a warning, Percy, to remember other people's concerns about you."

Percy slowly nodded and felt heavy enough to sink through his chair. Annabeth's shoulders still remained stiff.

"We don't find a good reason to keep you off our precinct, but we suggest you do." Santos sighed. "For the moment. And I ask that you schedule counseling with Prasad."

"She has her own tent," Pine offered.

Annabeth blinked. "I understand," she answered, a bit hazily like she was still processing everything.

Lipara looked up from her laptop. "She's available this afternoon." Santos held out her hand, like she was giving Annabeth something.

Percy blearily looked around. This was the most absurd thing he'd heard so far. But Annabeth didn't blink.

She opened her mouth. From what he remembered, she mentioned having her own appointment his afternoon, which Percy could easily guess would be more important. "Sorry, I cannot go then. I have an important health facility to visit with Percy."

That would be one of the rehabs, Percy realized. That slipped through all his harrowed thoughts.

The policewomen exchanged glances. Lipara bit her lip. Santos drummed her fingers on the table. "Prasad is very busy," she began delicately, but there was a thump on the glass and then the door opened.

The officers retracted their hands from their guns when they saw it was Thalia. A hot bolt of fear splashed into Percy's chest and receded.

"I'll take him," she said, her chin leveled.

Tso nodded at Annabeth. "That works out, then. Prasad should be at the main table now."

Annabeth's gaze wildly found Percy's. There was no room for either of them to protest against everyone else's Lieutenant.

Sorry, she mouthed.

Good luck, Percy soundlessly answered. She smiled and lightly touched his shoulder.

"Thanks," Annabeth told Thalia sharply as she followed Tso out. Percy wondered aimlessly if it actually sounded threatening or if he was imagining it.

"Of course," Thalia answered breezily.

-line break-

Thalia blared the sirens across most of the highway. His instincts didn't seem to have an energy limit and kept screaming at him to run, and his heart ached from beating too hard. His other muscles kept cramping.

Percy had the most temporary of reprieves when Tso drove him back to the Valdezes and got coerced into lunch. Percy had sipped his gazpacho, threw it up, and then watched a Netflix tv show on racecars with Leo where he almost nodded off. And then Thalia had incessantly rang the doorbell. The last he saw of them was Calypso yelling at Leo and Reyna's expression growing a little tired.

Thalia suddenly shut off the sirens as they veered into upstate territory. Percy's ears pulsed. His relief battled with the realization that Thalia was probably going to talk to him.

"Is it that place?"

Percy's emotions were crashing together explosively. He examined their surroundings and spotted a chain-link fence winding around a stubby U-shaped, three-story structure with bars on the windows. His few belongings tossed around in his mostly empty duffel bag as he lifted it onto his lap. "Probably."

The guards stood up stiffly when the car rolled over, and the administration officials were visibly paling at the sight of Thalia's uniform. She smirked to herself as she strutted down the asphalt driveway.

"Ma'am," a chubby white guy with a small potbelly said sweetly. "Is there something wrong?"

Thalia's smirk grew bigger as she shrugged. "Wrong department. An Annabeth Chase has booked a visit here, because we're looking to hospitalize him."

Percy was staring up at the foreboding expanse of the rehab's impeccable façade as they exchanged pleasantries. He rightfully deserved worse. "We" usually referred to Annabeth, Reyna, and him. Reyna, who instinctively shielded away from Thalia and who he would never allow to ride in a police car though she offered, and Annabeth, who was probably chatting it up with the Hunters' psychiatrist Prasad now. It didn't matter. They didn't have to be dragged into these last few moments. He could disappear cleanly from the Earth. They could both book visits and then get back on with their lives.

The potbellied man, probably the manager, cleared his throat. "Young man. What have you been using?"

He wanted to pour out a sigh that would cause all the papers in his assistant's hand to flutter away. Percy stared up at the ceiling. "Heroin. I've used it for a year, quit for nine days, and overdosed three days ago."

A nurse, with the traditional Red-cross hat pinned to her brown hair, skipped forward. "Let's take you to your medical examination."

Thalia shook her head, squinting at her phone. She seemed to be scrolling at an unbelievably long text. "Wait, no, first explain your treatment methods, admittance requirements, funding expectations, and your vision for the future…?" Thalia uttered everything in a flat monotone as she read from her phone until her voice peaked incredulously at the end.

The possible manager blinked a few times. "Yes, of course, ma'am. Would you like to come into my office?"

Thalia flapped her hand for Percy to walk faster. Percy could easily pick out a non-profit from a rich rehab by now. (They visited a fancy one a few days ago, where they were handed bottles of Perrier on a beaten silver tray and ushered to the sunny poolside. Percy had simply turned around. He sincerely _hoped _Annabeth did not plan on paying for that.) There were a few cracks in the plaster, dark scuffs on the corners of the linoleum tiles, and a variety of patients shooting them hostile looks. He couldn't see any hallways leading off to the living areas, but Percy could feel that he was almost there.

The most-likely-affirmed manager's office had a tiny, unwashed window with a plastic daisy plant on the windowsill. Thalia comfortably plopped into the only guest seat with some escaped stuffing. The nurse scuttled outside to grab one for Percy. The sign on his desk read, "Timothy Janus."

"So." Mr. Janus folded his hands. "Here at the Sunny Mountain Rehabilitation Center, we welcome all patrons suffering from addiction to drug abuse. Wherever there is medical urgency for in-patient care…"

Percy felt like collapsing against the ground. He was exhausted, and he was becoming conscious that he had to live in this depravity. He wanted to just disappear, like he deserved. Stop wasting all his millionth chances, and just cease.

Thalia coughed loudly. "You know what, why don't you type that up and send it to Annabeth." She reached into his World's Best Dad mug for a fountain pen and pulled a sticky note off his dollar store sticky-note-distributing calendar to jot down her email address. "Give us the tour and we'll decide if it's sold."

The nurse's eyes were focused in Percy's direction. He kept like squirming uncomfortably underneath it—_why is everyone looking at me—_until he felt it himself. A familiar churn.

"Bathroom," Percy gasped before his head dropped between his knees and he retched up water.

-line break-

The tour was personalized for him. He got to throw up the rest in the bathroom and rinse his mouth again with tap water before the nurse nonchalantly opened the door—they didn't lock, and brought him straight to the medical examination room. Percy passed a large dining hall, with long rectangular tables lined up closely, as Thalia pursued the menu, and then the nurse took up his elbow as another formal office came into sight.

Percy instinctively retracted his arm, hiding it behind his back, and she stared at Percy with nervous hazel eyes. Percy looked away and tasted the acrid, smokey linger of guilt deepen in his throat. His mother never flinched, but Percy should've been able to tell. Shouldn't have been deterred by just a little physical pain.

A short, tanned woman grinned at him inside the office. It was a lot cleaner than Mr. Janus', with a wool sheet-covered bed in the corner. "Hello, I'm Dr. Asch Windley. I hope you've got all your medical forms."

Percy automatically turned to Thalia because he still was a freaking toddler. She furrowed her eyebrows like, _what? _Percy had to text Annabeth, who helped him find and print the files, for them, and then they sat around Dr. Windley's table twiddling their thumbs for a while as they waited for the Wi-Fi. Percy tried not to yawn too much as he waited for her questions, forced himself to sit still under her stethoscope and as a light was shone into his ears for the second time that day, and then Dr. Windley got up to whisper the results to the nurse.

The nurse seemed to be Mr. Janus' acting agent now, since he apparently had spasms of disgust whenever he saw puke, and gave Percy a wobbly smile. "You're perfectly qualified to enter Sunny Mountain!" she announced.

Before either Percy or Thalia could respond, Dr. Windley was already pushing an IV needle into his arm. Percy flinched and felt a happy sigh crawling up his throat, and his thoughts raced about heroin for a few split moments before the effects failed to come through. "Nutrition," she explained. "You're also getting a little dehydrated because of the expelling." At Thalia's raised eyebrows, she clarified, "Vomiting."

"Right, of course. So I'll report all this, and I've got to chat with him." Thalia grabbed the IV and began wheeling it out of the room, so before the needle of it could be ripped out from his arm, Percy tiredly followed. At his point, he wasn't too scared of her. He could deal with whatever came from her. He wouldn't expect anything better.

Thalia texted and walked, almost crashing into a ton of patients and medicine-bearing carts or janitors' mops, and Percy had to clutch the tube bearing the nutrition into his body as he swerved around everything. She finally looked up and peered around. Thalia fearlessly pushed open a nearby door, which opened into a small room that was decorated rather like a kindergarten classroom and marched towards the circle of folding chairs as her phone buzzed incessantly.

The IV was rolled and then pushed a few seats away from her, which Percy sank into with a sigh. Thalia made herself rather comfortable, propping her combat boots on another chair and resting her chin on her chest as she answered whatever questions Annabeth had, even though this was the time of Annabeth's session. She barely straightened to buckle her phone onto her belt compartment and stare at Percy.

"So?" he sighed.

Thalia simply narrowed her eyes. "This is wrong."

He had no idea what exactly she was talking about, but he nodded.

Thalia breathed out an annoyed puff of air. "Annabeth's been missing appointments all week. Your friend Reyna could take you, or she could reschedule. But she has been spending every waking moment with you. And now this." She slid her feet off the other chair to lean in. "And now, committing a crime. Being around you is clearly not working." Thalia looked away, gritting her teeth. "Her job is really important to her, and I don't want her to discover it's gone when she finally wakes up."

I know that, he felt like protesting. But he clearly did not let himself think about it. He was too busy wallowing in his mess. "What can I do?" he whispered. He felt a last something—a moment, a wish, fade away.

Thalia's expression evened out, like it was made of stone again. "Don't accept any meetings with her. The security guards don't have permission to keep her away. You can say it's because of me, but I don't want her to see you."

Of course. He expected worse. "Okay."

She leveled a look at him. "I mean it, Jackson. Every single time, she believes in all the people she works with. You need to be better when you're around her again. Capisce?"

_If only I could will myself to be better. Or to never leave. _Percy mirrored her empty expression. "Yes."

"Good." She stood up. She stared at him for a moment. Thalia Grace looked hurt for a brief second. And then she turned around and left without another word.

Percy stared at the crayon doodles strung up on the wall, the ticking clock without reading the numbers. His phone dinged in his pant pocket.

Percy slowly pulled it out. Soon, it would be confiscated, and he was only allotted a call at night with a Sunny Mountain public phone, but for now, he could see Annabeth's name pop up on the screen.

_Hey. How is it?_

He found himself comfortably falling back into rethinking the wording of his message, checking it for mistakes. _Nice place. _

_I'm hoping you can adjust. Have you met anyone yet?_

_A few, no other patients. _Unless they were to barge into this room.

_Okay._

He hesitated. _How was the meeting with Prasad?_

_Pretty well, she's nice. I don't think therapists realize the importance of talking to someone else enough :). _

_Oh. That's good._

_Yeah. _The bubble hung there for a moment. _I'll miss you, Percy._

Percy felt tears prick at his eyes. He hardly knew who he was without his withdrawal, but he hoped that person didn't cry so much. _I miss you too. _He realized he used the wrong tense too late.

But she didn't comment on it. _Stay alive, and I'll see you soon ;)_

The waterworks were coming. He wasn't going to reject her yet. He just couldn't.

But he was seeing her for the last time today. His heart thumped hard and he felt something impatiently knocking against his spine. Everything was twisting painfully in his stomach. Percy was mostly certain he was losing it, and he felt a pulse of gratitude that he wouldn't have to see her again for a while, or maybe it was just his exhaustion that no longer pushed him to care.

His fingers fumbled over the keys. The bubble probably hung there for ten minutes.

_Annabeth, I like you._

He slammed the on/off button of the side of his phone, and it shut down before he could see a reply. And then Percy got up, held the neck of his IV, and wandered outside to find another carrot-haired nurse looking for him.

"Mr. Jackson!" she gasped. "Are you staying here?"

He nodded foggily, and signed the clipboard she held out.

She chattered a mile a minute as his heart tried to calm inside his heart, explaining that he'd been assigned the only room with a single empty bunk, and he would meet with them and another women's room daily. But for now, he would be monitored twenty-four hours, left out of the lengthier and more intensive meetings, and kept healthy enough until his physical symptoms faded.

"So how are you feeling, Mr. Jackson?" she suddenly asked as she reached for his things.

Percy shrugged. "Alright." In truth, he was feeling a little lightheaded and wishing he knew if Annabeth texted him back or not. Wishing he deleted his text.

The nurse, Hannah, beamed. "That's great. Why don't you visit your personal advisor later today, then?"

Percy racked his memory for some mention of that in Mr. Janus' speech. He might've said counselor….and while the role here was probably different from Annabeth's, he was going to continue therapy. With a new stranger. In rehab. He swallowed and tried to nod.

Hannah checked her old-fashioned wristwatch. "Let's see…your roommates are having recreation time now. Think you can handle meeting everyone first and then going to your room to rest?"

He didn't care much about either way. "Recreation time" was held in the grassy spot inside the dip of the building's U. Everyone wore similar white tracksuits with the embroidered Sunny Mountain logo. "Pollux, Butch, Octavian!" Hannah sang out. "Your new roommate has arrived."

The whole flock of his roommates' group turned to stare. Percy simply set his shoulders and faced the two people picking their way over. The last guy that looked up, chubby-cheeked with blond hair, lifted his chin and kept picking at the grass.

The extremely burly dude on the right waved a hand. He had a shaved head and an accompanying rainbow tattoo. "Butch," he announced, pointing to himself with a large hand. "That's Pollux."

The weedy, scarecrow-like guy on the left gave Percy a disturbing grin. "Hello, who are you?" he said in a sugary villain voice.

Percy backed up two steps before walking into Hannah. "Um," he tried to compose himself. "I'm Percy."

"Ah," the guy who must've been Octavian said. His blond hair was blinding in the light. "Well, Percy, I'm your bunkmate."

Hannah waited patiently for Percy's expression to untwist itself. When it didn't, she exclaimed cheerily, "It was very nice of you all to introduce yourselves, I'm sure you'll get along well." Percy pivoted and tried not to stride faster than her.

Hannah chided him a little bit, which he found himself automatically tuning out, a habit that had gotten him into trouble every year he was in school. They stopped at a row of offices decorated with framed pictures and one room belting out Queen. The nurse yanked the right open before Percy could see the picture, and gently pushed his IV inside.

A tall, curvaceous woman put down her _Vogue _magazine and her raspberry-purple lips spread into a slow smile. Under the table, her legs were crossed, and Percy could see six-inch stilettos. "Hello," she purred. "I'm Dr. Tanaka, but you can call me Drew. What's your name?"

Percy forgot all about his guilt and wondered how painful climbing over the barbed wire on the chain-link fence would be.

**Uh-oh. So, some more trivia. De Sol is probably not a real French name, but "Sol" means sun, so that means someone who would be an Apollo demigod joined the Hunters. (Okay, I know last names don't really have anything to do with their parents but, like, Gardener and Stoll?) That would be absolutely hilarious. **_**Asch**_** Windley is short for Asclepius, god of medicine. She's a woman, so I don't know what that's supposed to be, maybe also a demigod. **

**Also, I'M SO SORRY this is really late. I've been working on Percy's b-day oneshot (yup, that's also very late) which you guys should check out by the way, and then been not terribly productive. Still, though, I've been writing every day for, I don't know, maybe two weeks and it's been really great. That's definitely one of the most common advice authors give, and obviously, there's a reason. Its helping with growth, and at a young age, our brains are still pretty moldable, so we can make it into a habit for ourselves easily. I probably will have to adjust my usual writing time once school starts, but just use really any free time you have. Totally helpful!**

**8/31 Edit alert: mention of Thanksgiving on Montauk trip, comparison between Wallie and Beckendorf (Ch. 16), left out the part about shortened meeting times (Ch. 17), changed Jason's spinning pen to flipped coin ;), and edited scene where Thalia visits Percy (Ch. 20)**

**Review Replies:**

**Guest: Thank you so much for always following up with updates! No, I'm not feeling rushed, I just spend too much time on stuff that's less important. I should really try to update faster, sorry, this should be the last time. And I'll be doing my best to keep giving out good work. Thanks again!**

**Guest (2): Okay…I don't want to be rude, but I hope you're not sending those kinds of reviews to other authors. That could be taken in a wrong way (not that I know what your intentions are). The rating of this story and the general content would not allow that, sorry. And there's no need to be coarse, thank you. **

**BethnPercy: Hi! I'm so sorry I made you wait so long. The next chapter will be out within the week, though my promises are pretty untrustworthy, but I think so. Thank you for telling me you binge-read this, it does get pretty lengthy so I hope you didn't get too tired ;). Anyway, I really appreciate it. I totally agree, love can help with problems, but rarely fixes everything. In fact, it usually causes a few issues of its own. Tropes can be revitalized and interesting from a new perspective, but it would definitely be difficult reworking that one. And thanks for your comment on my characters, I've honestly not put that much thought in them, but yeah, diversity is important (though I personally think I could still use more work). Yeah, rehab will be an interesting experience. And thank you so much for stating that about addiction, it does have a lot of myths and prejudices and etc around it, but it really is a lifelong thing. Even just writing from a fairly inaccurate point of view, it feels exhausting to imagine, much less plan out, and that has really helped me with realizing I wouldn't be able to understand but it would be so, so hard. I'm glad you like the story, hopefully it keeps being good, and sorry for the long reply! **

**Mr. Gilborg: It's totally fine, review when you want, there's no need to lie in wait for new chapters. I just wanted to say, I told you there wouldn't be new characters but I forgot about the ones that are coming. Heh. And thanks for checking out my competition submissions and telling me about the issues, they've definitely been interesting to write. I didn't notice I used the wrong doc, but I wasn't able to change the double-post because I hadn't received any feedback yet…but it's all good. **

**Yes, I've hit one of the turning points, the bigger ones are coming. I totally agree with you, and thanks for pointing that out (honestly, I'm often subconsciously aware of these things but I never fix them ugh), there should've been more anger. I guess…I just didn't want to hurt Percy *sobs*. No, it's okay, I mean while most of them would care about his feelings or expected this, they wouldn't just easily throw anyway their own pain or his well-being. I have gone back and added some of that, so hopefully your future rereading of this should have less blimps. **

**I'm just going to say this, I really admire how you can read deeply into things and see all these paths. Um, *spoiler* Reyna does not play a direct role with Annabeth. But yes, she will bring back some things from Percy's past. I still think I have some work to do with dialogue, but thanks! The romance is going to come later, definitely after rehab (not going to say how it affected him), but there's going to be some more slow burn. So, about Grover, I'm glad you asked. Yeah, he is financially better off. I remember mentioning this in the earlier chapters, I think, that he earned a lot of money dealing drugs and did not spend it on buying more. He didn't really spend it on much; Juniper wouldn't like fancy stuff anyway, but some of that is probably still in his savings. And not that it would make much of a dent, like you said, his job is remotely better than Percy's. **

**Dude, I know, they (sorry, gotta love my so-OOC-I-can-claim characters I'm writing about) are all wasted there. Though I'm not sure I could put up a good argument for the Stolls, but oh well. Environmental activism doesn't really pay a lot of money, and he would probably want to keep an eye on Percy. Because, um, otherwise, Percy doesn't really have a social life….? Anyway, thanks for reading, hopefully the indents are better for your eyes, and I'll be posting soon!**


	22. Chapter 22

**I'm back! Not even after a full week! *hears crickets chirping* Do look out for an announcement at the end though, it has to do with this story. **

**Also, I'm not trying to uphold any stigmas about mental health institutions. There are multiple sides to everything, and I definitely can't cover everything.**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: "Gold cage/Hostage to my feelings/Back against the wall/Trippin', trip-trippin' when you're gone" – _So It Goes…, _Taylor Swift_

"Percy! Good morning, how did you sleep?" Nurse Rosa sang out in one breath.

He slowly dragged the linty blanket from his face. His arm brushed a wet patch on his pillow, but Percy had given up hiding the drool patches. Nurse Florence had reported it to Doctor Windley on his first morning and they ran a ton of tests on him until Doc said he was just releasing some more moisture at night because of all the water he drank. Percy rubbed his eyes. "Pretty well."

Nurse Rosa was tapping his bag of vitamins. With his IV and her compact size, the aisle between the bunks was completely filled. She gave Butch a quick wave when she saw him watching. "And how many hours would that be?"

Percy's muscles clenched and released as he sat up. The pain was already fading, and the feeling of stiffness was strange. "A lot." He gave Nurse Rosa a small grin. "I slept through the sunrise."

Nurse Rosa beamed. "Isn't that nice?" She turned to Butch and Pollux's bunk, like she wanted them to respond. Pollux dutifully nodded. Nurse Rosa plopped down a stack of clothes on the end of Percy's bed (they even did his laundry, though Butch said that was only temporary). "Chop, chop, breakfast is waiting for you all!"

She made sure to aim her grin over Percy's bunk, being one of the few nurses not intimidated or vaguely disturbed by Octavian. "Yes, of course," Octavian's sickly voice responded.

Pollux disappeared into his closet to change, Butch was already dressed and really to hit the ground running, and Percy darted out to the bathroom to avoid Octavian stripping in. The. Middle. Of. The. Room.

Nurse Rosa cheerily hooked the stem of his IV and led him down the hallway, where other rehabilitees shuffled towards the bathroom with mussed hair and deadly breath. Holding his IV had become his "quirk" since Thalia used it on him, and it was a little weird being led around by everyone, but he preferred it to being touched. Which was at least better than all the other quirks around here. Nurse Rosa greeted everyone and forcibly carved out a path into the stall Percy could change in by cheerleading from the bathroom's doorway. He scrambled into the new pair and tightly scrunched the pajamas under his arm, and then stepped out into free-flowing water the morning shower rooms were releasing from their stalls. There was a drain in the corner of the room the soapy water was swirling into, which had sucked up much of his puke. He took out his granted peppermint green-striped toilettes bag and dutifully spent five minutes brushing his teeth.

"I'm glad you're getting more used to things, Percy," Nurse Rosa announced. "They're making waffles this morning, I heard."

He tried to summon a grin, since food was one of the few things that still made him happy. "That's great!"

Nurse Rosa tried to fill out the list of his vitals as they maneuvered the hallways to get to the dining room. Percy had to grab the IV like a wheel to keep her from crashing into any other fellow patients. Someone in street clothes was being wheeled their way, their face still slightly tinged blue from either a crazy high or a crazy crash. Other nurses were carrying pills for those with medicated detoxes, and Percy might've seen a naked person behind a wide-open door. Pollux appeared on the shoulder of the hallway, running a pudgy hand through the cowlicks of his bright hair. His hand absentmindedly grasped for something as he stared out at the idle morning traffic, and then dropped to his side.

Their room was very diverse in addictions. Pollux was an alcohol who apparently had a thing for Strawberry Hill—and he had a twin who died from alcohol poisoning, so he was perfectly content with staying sober. Octavian loved to trip on LSD but still had crazy hallucinations telling him to make ritual sacrifices and rule "the people." He muttered a lot of strange stuff over Percy's bunk at night. Butch had, well, a rainbow of vices (his tattoo was the brunt of a hundred inside jokes) and had pretty much tried them all, but the one that stuck out to him most was, surprisingly, Benzodiazepines. Perfectly innocent pills he got when he couldn't sleep once his favorite horse was injured or something. He also showed no physical withdrawal symptoms whatsoever.

Nurse Rosa set down her clipboard and breathed in happily when they entered the dining hall. It was not much larger than a meeting room, with small wooden tables closely bunched together and a spread of food before the kitchen windows.

"Yup, those are real waffles," she said with appraisal in her voice. "Look, Butch is already sitting there! Is it alright if I leave you alone now?"

"Yeah," Percy responded tiredly, nodding to her. She delicately retracted her hands from the IV and waved the clipboard as she left.

He scooted his IV between the tables, trying to not roll over anyone's foot, and shared a nod with Butch, who was sprinkling his eyes with salt. Percy stiffened and shouldered on to the food, where Octavian was standing ahead. He pushed the IV into his elbow and grabbed a fork, then generously loaded the waffles onto his plate. One of the cooks smiled indulgently at him and pointed to a bite-size quiche. They never let him get past without vegetables.

Octavian was squatted down so his glass could be eye-level, measuring the height of the orange juice. Percy leaned away from him to grab the maple syrup jug, but Octavian squinted up at him.

"Percy. Hello," he said in that sticky voice.

Percy tried not to hold the jug upside-down and then race out of there. "Good morning, Octavian."

"How are you this fine morning?" There was something affectionate in his eyes; like he was scrutinizing a stuffed deer head to mount on his wall.

"Perfectly fine." He decided the small pool of syrup was good enough and spun for their table.

Octavian reached out and yanked the IV to make it still before Percy could take a step. He pushed himself up with the table and sipped his juice. "You're going into PAWS, right?"

Post-Acute Withdrawal Symptoms, he'd gotten a long lecture about that in the first few moments he was awake enough to understand at Sunny Mountain. Percy tried to get riled up about the misuse of his IV but honestly wasn't surprised. "Yeah," he responded, slowly drawing out the word in confusion.

"That means you should be joining our group meetings! Are you psyched up for it?" Octavian leered.

"Totally," Percy responded, and almost bowled over a girl with three oatmeal bowls on her tray as he rushed away. The wheels of his IV collided against one of the newly occupied seats at their table, where Leila was staring off into space.

"Watch it, Jackson," Khione snapped, even though she was standing. As usual, her crystal crown was on at 7 in the morning.

Leila raised her head, water droplets flicking from the ends of her still-damp hair, and gave Percy a sleepy smile after staring at him for a few arduous moments. "Percy!" she exclaimed.

"That's me," he answered flatly as he took a seat. Leila curiously regarded his waffles.

Khione glared at his plate. "You're using more syrup allotted to one person." She had an artificial set of teeth made of some glass-like material that glinted harshly as she spoke.

Percy self-consciously pulled his waffles closer and sank a fork into the top one. Butch shrugged. "Not everyone's eating waffles."

"I want some," Leila protested.

"Then let's go," Khione said with a long-suffering sigh. "Why did you even sit down?"

Leila stared at the table and then her. "I sat down…. I sat down because…"

Khione rolled her eyes so hard the ice-blue of her irises almost disappeared. "Never mind, get up."

Octavian danced around them to get to his seat. He had a piece of untoasted bread and his carefully measured OJ. They joined the other latecomers who got the morning showers as he took a seat next to Pollux.

"Good day, Pollux!"

Pollux grumbled something else and feigned realistic-looking interest, except Percy knew for a fact that couldn't be true. He had a strange talent with theater, and cutting stuff with only one hand.

"You all know that Percy is joining our group meeting today, right?" Octavian turned around the table exaggeratedly.

Butch shrugged again. "Not a big deal."

Octavian looked affronted. "That is a big issue he needs to be initiated!" He got a wild look in his eyes. "…a sacrifice—to read his fate!"

_H*ll no, _Percy thought. Thankfully, Khione and Leila were shuffling back, holding, respectively, a thin dribble of steel-cut oats and three waffles.

Khione muttered, "Ugh." But something flashed in her expression, and when she sat down next to Butch, she clandestinely removed Octavian's knife from his plate.

Percy guessed she was trying to prevent a sacrifice and maybe stab someone in the future, but he didn't understand anyone in this group. Leila, who was hacking at her waffles beside him, had smoked too much marijuana in college and was now somewhat mentally backwards. And she didn't know what her last name was.

Khione was a notorious meth user, better known as ice. Percy assumed she had the creepy set of sparkly teeth because her actual ones fell out from smoking it, but it could've just been to intimidate everyone. Unlike Octavian with his hallucinating, she was recently admitted and her "ice psychosis" was still running at full-tilt. She definitely accused Pollux of being a spy before. As for Octavian, he seemed to never have gotten over seeing things after an entire year here.

Leila made a weird face. "It tastes like egg."

"Waffles have eggs in them!" Octavian exclaimed in exasperation.

Khione regarded her oats with a weird look. She was shifting a tiny mouthful around, like she wanted to test for poison. "I'm not hungry," she muttered.

Everyone looked away when she spat the oats back out, except for Percy, who it was too late for because he was frozen in place. She rubbed her tongue with a napkin.

"If you waste your oatmeal, Ceres will come and haunt you," Octavian hissed softly.

Khione's eyes darted from side to side. She glared like Octavian like, _none of _your _business. _

"Will it hurt if you stab him?" Leila asked curiously.

Percy tried not to crawl under the table. He didn't think his place would be good for his mental health. "Please don't," he muttered, but no one listened.

"Oh, it will," Octavian responded darkly. "For her, because the people will rise up in protest and the gods shall avenge me."

Pollux sighed.

"Who are the people?" Leila asked with furrowed eyebrows. Her voice rose. "Why do you keep talking about them?"

Octavian spread his arms, and Khione exaggeratedly recoiled like he was on fire, clutching her overly long, lacey, frost-patterned sleeves. His eyes shone. "The people? They're all here."

Butch pushed in his chair, and everyone jumped at the rattling table. "Guys, we have a meeting soon. Percy's first day," he said in the tone of a tired preschool teacher, inclining his head.

"Oh, you're in our group." Leila gave him the same slow up-and-down.

Percy nodded as he crammed in the last few waffles. He could hear Annabeth's voice in his head, loud and clear: _Slow down, Percy. You'll choke. _

_Well, get me out of here, please. _He did not have the pride to care about being rescued and in any scenario he could think of, Annabeth would be striding through the blaze of gunfire. Except she needed her own time. She had more important things to do.

"Jackson, you look like a kicked puppy," Khione snorted. He realized her bowl of oatmeal was suddenly empty.

"I'm fine," he replied automatically. Everyone blinked at him, including Pollux. Percy averted his eyes and moped up the rest of his syrup with a tiny piece of waffle.

"We need to go!" Octavian declared. "I've divined that a lot will be revealed today."

"Ah?" Butch murmured sarcastically.

Percy sprang up, and Leila finally shuffled out of her chair. "Why are your teeth see-through?" she asked Khione all of a sudden. She asked this question every morning.

Khione ignored her as she strutted forward, Pollux also pushing out of the dining room. The nurses in the hallway nervously stepped out of her way, beamed at Percy, and tousled Leila's hair. Nurse Phuong, without fail, hid a snort at Butch's tattoo from inside her patient's room. Other groups were following along, elbowing one another to cross the meeting room hallway first. They all had to squeeze along the wall whenever any breakfast or medicine trollies and emptied stretchers were pushed over.

"This a lot of people," Leila commented in surprise.

Percy straightened as they passed all the turns for the sleeping rooms. He'd been here multiple times, but never to join a proper meeting. Khione smacked open one of the doors.

There were six chairs in a neat sphere. Only three pottery sculptures lined the display shelf, and no crayon drawings were strung up. But there was a small stack of binders on the main table, and some suspicious-looking drawings that had clearly remained too long on the prop-up whiteboard to be properly erased. Facing the doorway was a young woman, in a purple turtleneck and slim jeans, who offered them a casual smile.

"Hi, Gwen," Butch spoke up first.

She waved brightly. Gwen reached for a heavy notebook at her feet, the kind with colorful tabs to mark out different portions. "A new member?" she asked with raised eyebrows. "Percy, right?"

He nodded. Everyone had been setting into seats, and of course, he was located between Octavian and Butch.

Gwen flicked through the pages of her notebook, past endless scribbles and some strange drawings, to the very back. In the corner of his eye, Khione was leaning out of her chair to see inside. Behind the last orange tab, the emptiest section, there were already a few lines on the page.

"I'm really excited to meet you. You look great after…what Dr. Asch tells me a whole week. How have your emotions been so far?"

Well-behaved. Like the calm before a storm. Percy shrugged. "I'm feeling pretty calm now. Kind of sleepy."

Gwen jotted something down and laughed. "Right, because of the insomnia. Well," she reclined back to look at everyone, "since it's Percy's first day, I know Khione must be looking forward to going first instead."

Her head jumped up. She gave Percy an icy glare that he uncomfortably looked away from.

Gwen had been too occupied flipping through a new section. "Alright. When did it start for you? How did you meet your dealer?"

Khione drummed her cotton slippers on the floor. Percy got to keep his sneakers, but he vaguely remembered her entering rehab in that same crown and freaky glass-like stilettos. (By far, not the wildest outfit he'd seen. There was someone in an actual loincloth around their waist.) All sharp, weapon-like objects were removed from the grasp of the patients, so Octavian's long nails had to be clipped weekly and they used blunt toddler-safe utensils.

"He was visiting my dad for business stuff." Percy could now recall someone leading her inside—an older man with a nice suit and windswept hair. "We had our first exchange in a parking lot."

Leila snorted. Gwen frowned. "Is there something important you'd like to share, Leila?"

"That's such a cliché," she said in a mocking, vaguely Valley Girl-toned voice.

Khione turned her frosty gaze in a new direction. "It was our house's parking lot. My dad's limos don't fit in a normal driveway."

Butch subtly rolled his eyes.

Gwen leaned in with folded hands. "Why did you start? It's okay to be honest about personal issues, Khione."

"I was bored." Her voice was flat. "My dad made me go outside to say goodbye and I saw something in the passenger seat. I tried some and it was pretty chill."

Percy distantly wondered if Khione was really trying to act like the Ice Queen or just normally like that.

Gwen nodded. "Thanks. Leila, what about you? What do you remember?"

Leila was the youngest, a college dropout, and Percy was pretty sure she first used pot in high school, but her forehead still wrinkled as she tried to think of something so recent.

Octavian stood up, his chair squeaking behind him. "Shouldn't it be Percy's turn?" He smirked. "And maybe we should go through any crimes he would want to get off his chest first."

Gwen turned to him. "That is something we're ready to listen to. If you ever want to share, I can say that no one will judge."

Her optimism was like a noose around his neck. He was screaming soundlessly inside as everything welled up. _I've been ruining everyone's lives. Nico's sister is dead. Beck and Silena are dead. I tried to save my mother, and she—was killed. _

But that was the thing about the world. It forced you to show nothing, to go on. Gwen smiled encouragingly.

"Actually, can I just say…this wasn't the first time, but I thought my friend didn't care about me anymore. I was scared. And she's really worried about me now, so," he gestured to himself, in rehab.

Everyone stared at him. It was so easy talking about Annabeth. But the relief was short-lived. He felt his gut seizing up; maybe no one was sincere here and only Gwen would pay attention and he wouldn't have anyone to sit with at lunch. But Gwen nodded eagerly.

"She sounds like she cares about you a lot." She looked around the circle. Octavian had his eyebrows raised incredulously. "I'm sure that felt good."

His poster child glory faded eventually when Leila jutted her chin forward. "I can remember that my friends asked me to. I told them it smelled bad, but I listened to them for some reason. I don't have a dealer. There was this guy who worked with me, umm, on making coffee I think?"

"Your first job as a barista," Gwen reminded her. Percy had a feeling it was also her last job.

Octavian was staring at him again. "When did you start?" he demanded. "How did you recover so quickly?"

Gwen cleared her throat. "Please leave the questions to me. Would you like to answer that, Percy?"

She had his medical information, he realized. Everyone seemed to know it. At least no one would expect him to get better. They had never known anything else from him. "This was my most recent overdose. I've been using for a few years now. And I detoxed completely last time."

"And you, Octavian?" Gwen continued. She almost seemed annoyed, which would be a first.

"It was a solar eclipse!" he exclaimed. "A day destined by the gods."

"Who?" Leila asked again.

"It was by the ocean, and the fog was so thick, like it was hiding mere mortals from witnessing the sight. Power descended on me and I could see the future."

Khione looked at him like he was the craziest thing ever.

"It was an accidental acid trip," Gwen explained with a sigh to Percy. "Some of his new friends were using it as they watched."

"Not friends!" Octavian snapped. "Legions."

"Is he still on an acid trip?" Leila asked warily.

"No, he's on the path to recovery at Sunny Mountain. Everyone has their own pace," Gwen asked smoothly, sounding like she once memorized the website's home page.

"What the heck happened to the asylum?" Khione questioned irritably.

Gwen's expression grew tight. "That is a decision for his family. But he refuses to see them." She spoke lowly, so Octavian wouldn't overhear, but he jumped in his seat.

"I don't need their permission! I'm an oracle and an augur! Rome has never fallen…it is the immortal empire and it needs me!" His pale face was getting flushed as he ranted.

"Octavian, we are all aware of how important you are." Gwen pulled out her phone and rattled off a quick text. "Everything will get better if you calm down."

Her calm, optimistic voice was lulling. They listened to Pollux's one-word answers until Nurse Nyakio stormed inside the room. "Where is that babbling—" she cut herself off with a frown when she saw him. "Oh. Come on, let's go back to your room."

Octavian scowled. "I'm not missing the all-important meeting Percy's attending for the first time. There are some things a whole group has to be present to hear."

Nurse Nyakio didn't blink. "Come on, buster. You have some questions to answer about the things we found inside your bed."

Octavian's expression filled with shock. "Oh." He shuffled outside with her.

Gwen brightly turned to Butch. "So. Why did you try your first drug?"

"It was in my drink. And I was thirsty."

"Yeah, that happens."

-line break-

Their group meetings were long. They had a break for recreation, room cleaning, or playing in the game room, and usually some big event in the evening, but when the paling afternoon glow seeped through the windows, Percy's chair already had a deep indent in it.

Butch still carried a heavy whiff of Febreze around with him. They'd gone through a whole string of discussion questions, heard too much about Leila's personal experiences sharing the bathroom with five other rooms (apparently there was a catfight every other day involving water), and Gwen told them to share whatever anecdotes they wanted.

Octavian had gotten back from resting at the room, and without fail, pointed at Percy. "Why doesn't he go first?"

There were some groans and eye rolls. Percy anticipated Gwen turning his direction. She smiled slightly. "Well, it's true, you haven't been here long. What's happened to you before Sunny Mountain?"

He said with a very straight face, "I attended a Christmas party." But his steeled expression didn't last. PAWS struck.

Percy felt his breaths growing rapid as tears clogged up his windpipe. Something blinding and electric wire-hot struck through his mind. He couldn't make out any of his thoughts.

"Percy?" Gwen ventured delicately.

He answered with his face downturned and a voice that sounded shaky to his ears, "It was fun. Lots of food. I got together with some old friends."

"And then?" Leila asked, nonplussed.

A familiar and awfully new instinct welled up. _Tell someone. Pass it along. I don't want to hold it inside. _His thoughts were strangely, narrated by Annabeth. After meeting Reyna, he realized again it was crazy what he came up with. He genuinely thought he could feel better that way? How did he witness that working so many times?

"Would you like a moment?" Gwen was asking.

Percy shook his head. Maybe it did work. Reyna was proud of him now. Somehow. Didn't he have every reason to listen to Annabeth? "No, it's good. My friend helped me quit. She went to the beach with me." His thoughts were too jumbled. He couldn't arrange them chronologically, and his voice was lowering with every sentence. Only Gwen and Butch could probably hear "When I overdosed, she came across the country. And I forgot to tell her something, and her criminal record was ruined. I told her I liked her."

Gwen's mouth was open slightly. "And then what happened?" Octavian exploded.

She stood up abruptly. "You know what guys, let's start coloring. I have a new set of crayons." She fetched a few arts and crafts things from a low cabinet, blew the dust off from the stack on the table, and handed out a sheet of paper to everyone.

"Draw your fantasy," she tossed out randomly, and then scooted her chair closer to Percy's. Leila also set her chair across from him, but she sat fairly silently, and Gwen let her stay.

"Thank you for saying that." She grinned. "There's a lot your counselor could probably tell you more about, but a lot of relationship advice benefits from group discussion. Or, at least, we had to listen to a lecture about that. What would be your best reason to get together with her?"

"Uh." He blinked.

"She knows more than him," Leila suggested.

Percy inclined his head. "There's that."

Gwen laughed. "But what can you give to her?"

"Absolutely nothing," he sighed.

"What? I meant as a friend."

"Stop using," he answered, because that was usually the right answer.

Leila shook her head. "You're not using now," she said flatly.

Gwen waved her pen in the air. "Stop giving her a reason to worry about you! You need to be collected!"

"Does she like you?" It was a different voice. Butch's. He was leaning over curiously. He had a beautiful picture of a horse-riding track on his paper.

Percy felt a knot in his stomach loosen. This was not public fodder. But it was so easy to discuss.

"Um. Not really. Maybe? I don't think so."

"You don't sound sure at all," Leila interjected sagely.

"What? What are you discussing without me?" Octavian burst out.

Khione's eyebrows arched sky-high. "Is this a conspiracy?"

"No!" Gwen impatiently waved her notebook to shoo them away, and spun back to Percy. "Your drawings aren't colorful enough."

-line break-

So his group turned out to be a bunch of psychotics or drama-loving gossips. And it was kind of nice.

His "street" friends had the same kind of priorities and worries as him, and his adopted group of Annabeth's golden friends had gone through plenty of issues, but his rehab motley crew he would never call friends understood a certain part of him. And they had those talks together.

If he brought up an overdose, there was no sympathy or annoyance. Whenever Pollux muttered, "I could really use a drink" after one of Octavian's rants, no one had to give him a lecture, they just laughed. And though Butch was good at recreation (but he'd definitely done steroids before), everyone else in their groups was pretty much as scrawny as him, with those heroin addicts that gasped for morphine after a lap, and Octavian, who could hardly do a push-up. They could share all the idiotic things they'd done to get a new fix (unfortunately, Percy's only story was ditching his friends in a steam room that Leila wanted to try) over lunch and not have someone give a double-take and dial the police.

For the record, what won out was that Khione had apparently stuffed five cops in a freezer and decided to escape in her dealer's car—with a month's stash—to America.

Perhaps Sunny Mountain did something to one's humor.

He saw them every day, and so far, he'd seen Drew once to do his mental analysis (with Dr. Asch present, thankfully), which determined he only needed a couple of counselling sessions a week. But Nurse Arihi had swung by during his Go Fish round with Pollux in the game room and announced Dr. Tanaka was ready to see him.

Butch stared in his direction while Octavian let out his hyena laugh.

"Thanks, Arihi." He set down his about-to-win cards to Pollux, whose expression didn't so much as twitch, and followed her outside.

Her arm made as if to reflexively grab something, and then she shared with him a warm grin. "Right, no more IV. We'll just have to get through PAWS. I hear you're not crying all the time, good job."

Percy winced. He'd been sobbing a lot more. More than from his stay-at-home detox. But maybe it was because social standards were lower here, or he was trying not to think about…things he wasn't trying to think about. "Thank you, I guess."

She chuckled as the counselling offices came into view. "I know you're trying to get out as soon as possible. But use well the time you have here. We like having you here."

Percy was aware Nurse Arihi was just being uncharacteristically nice because Drew's office loomed before them.

"I'll see you," he sighed.

"Yeah." She left the door open behind her with a wink.

Drew's office had narrow windows, so she loomed in the darkness. "Good day, Percy." She stood up, her maroon bodycon dress rippling over her hips. The glued-on gems of her scarily long nails glittered when she waved.

Percy slowly made his way into the seat. She sat back down and leaned in. Her perfume was heavily tinged with flowers and alcohol. "What do you want to do today?" she asked suggestively.

"What are we supposed to do?" he tried to ask back casually.

Drew cocked her head with a smirk, but Percy averted his eyes. He noticed a shirtless blond dude on her calendar. "Fine," she said, almost huffily. "Why don't we start with some interpretive speech?"

Percy furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

Drew pinched a notepad from her desk. It looked impossible for her to hold anything. She pushed through some of the pages. "Hm. I'll say something, and you have to tell me what you just thought of. Don't try messing with me," she murmured with a taunting grin.

He clenched his teeth and nodded.

Her eyes dug into his. He felt a sudden spark of nervousness. "Peace?" she asked flatly.

"Um. War?" He winced as her eyes glimmered. "I mean, absence of war."

Drew flapped her head. "Oh, that's fine, honey. War is an expression of love. Innocence?"

"Card games." What really came to mind was young Nico, with his Mythomagic cards, and then getting cheated by the Stolls, time after time. Nico, who was pissed at him. The Stolls, who were going to work without him.

She rested her chin on her hand. "Isn't that interesting. And happiness?"

_My mom_ sat on the tip of his tongue, but his mouth didn't open. Drew fluttered her extremely long lashes. "Is that too difficult to think of?" she asked consolingly.

Percy wanted to stare at the ceiling. "No," he bit out. "My friends inside a car." Beck's car, for some reason, with Silena and Annabeth crowded inside.

"Right." She tapped her pen against her plump lower lip but stopped when she realized he wasn't paying attention. She grasped another page. "What about sorrow?" Her eyes widened dramatically.

It was a two-fold image: a clear white t-shirt with a few paint splotches, then Annabeth's suitcase. He swallowed the thought away and stared at her head-on.

"Well? Come on, Percy, why would you keep something from me?" Her eyes narrowed, like she suspected something.

He didn't want to spend any longer on, but he also was not saying that to her. "A grave," he responded plaintively.

Annabeth's suitcase probably did carry clothing. But she was a sparse packer, and if she took a medium-sized suitcase for a weekend away, there had to be other things she wanted for the trip. Maybe a gift for her dad, extra space for that Dutch Crunch bread or other San Francisco goodies. Nothing she would actually get to do.

And then there was Rachel's shirt. D*mn. He hadn't thought of her in a while. She wore one of her nicest shirts to their last date, and he laughed because she had a white shirt in the first place. They broke up, and the last time he saw her in person was the back of her white shirt, with the slight ridge of her wing bones and all the speckles of forest green paint along the hem.

Drew had a dark eyebrow arched up. "Ah. I'm so sorry, Percy," she whispered. Her hand was suddenly on his arm.

He tried not to recoil like she just burned him, but her reaction to his flinch was washed all over her face. Pity. Annoyance. Maybe even a little fear. His mouth soured.

Drew folded her hands together smoothly, like they were too precious for him to touch again. "Well." She didn't consult the notepad again. "Romance?"

Percy's eyebrows raised. He didn't like the way her eyes were tracing him. "What? What does that have to do with this?" he waved his hand around in an attempt to cover whatever they were doing.

"I'm trying to learn more about you," Drew said, dragging out the words like he couldn't hear. "What came to mind?"

Annabeth Chase's set of mugs and her soft touch and her sun-streaked, lemon-scented hair and her secretive side glances and the feel of her lips on his cheek. He didn't want Drew to know anything about his personal life, and he also didn't want to get chased in this cat-and-mouse game he never chose to be a part of.

"My wife," he spat out forcibly.

Drew recoiled herself, like she was allergic to committed relationships, and her eyes flicked down to his hand. She recovered pretty quickly and only eyed him with a slightly different look. "I see. Well, that's it for the interpretive speech. But," she leaned in, "I do have something for you."

Drew reached over to her cabinet in a very unnatural position that was probably meant to display her figure or something, but Percy had learned his lesson with Khione earlier and looked away as soon as possible. He only glanced back at an exaggeratedly pouting Drew holding out a scratched Moleskin notebook.

"It's a gratitude journal," she murmured like it was a secret.

Percy stared at it and stiffened when her fingers reached out to brush his. Percy felt a small tremor wrack him and dropped his hands in his lap. Drew only smiled brightly.

"Every day, I'd like you to fill out five things you're grateful for." She flashed all her fingers of one hand to spell it out for him, and then reached across to his side of the table to hook up the cover with one of her nails. The shininess of the nail polish was almost blinding. The actual notebook was plain, with little dashes across the top.

"You'll write the date here," she tapped a nail against the dashes, "and show me all five when we see each other, okay?"

Percy blinked at her for a moment, and she placed a pen besides his notebook. And then she spread herself over the tabletop. "Do you need help, Percy?"

"I'm fine," he answered sharply, snatching the notebook from the desk and clicking his pen. He could feel her gaze resting heavily on him as he struggled to write something down.

His annoyance was gathering up. He didn't have anything to be grateful for in this stupid place. More importantly, he was stuck with this obsessed, most-likely-as-crazy-as-the-rest-of-them quote unquote counselor. When he once had Annabeth, who was most likely leading a much better life without him, who would definitely be stunned and possibly aghast at being referred to as his wife—even if it was mostly to spite Drew, who he missed way too horribly.

His head pounded. Percy kicked back his chair and stormed outside. His racing heartbeat exacerbated. The nearest nurse, Jalilah, was grinning at something on her phone in the next hallway. She never got involved with him, but she used to stand guard over another cocaine addict that brushed his teeth next to Percy in the mornings.

"Hi," he said, panting slightly in nervousness. Low waves of anxiety were riding over each other in his stomach. _They're going to kick me out and I'll never find someone who listens to me again and she always just pitied me she would never like me and what even matters if she did her best friend thinks I'm a bad influence._ "Can I stop counselling?" he managed to get out.

Nurse Jalilah tucked her phone away immediately and straightened. It took her a split second to recognize him. "Um. No?"

Percy breathed out a sigh. "Sorry. I just want a break. I went in there, I don't know, half an hour ago, could I just return to my room for a moment?"

Nurse Jalilah peered at him. "Counselling sessions only last thirty minutes. You're free, but you should probably say something," she gestured vaguely to the still-open doorway, "and wait for whoever to pick you up."

He slouched slightly. In the distance, he saw Drew race out of her room. He ducked inside a closed doorway. "I don't want to go back," he muttered. He wanted to curl up on his bed and forget this godforsaken place and all the thoughts it was bringing.

Nurse Jalilah spoke a little more tenderly. "I'm not supposed to coddle you. Tell Dr. Tanaka you have to go. You can wait outside afterwards." She continued leaning against the hallway, waiting for him to go in.

Percy crossed his arms and waited for his nurse to relieve him. Drew had peered both ways and went back inside her office with hunched shoulders. A few nurses he didn't recognize passed by, and Nurse Jalilah still stared at him insistently. "Can I go to Dr. Asch to ask for a new counselor?"

Nurse Jalilah shook her head. "Sorry man, but they're all pretty busy. Come on."

Percy opened his mouth to explain all his very valid reasons why he would probably be better off without one at all, but Nurse Jalilah held up a hand and rolled her eyes.

"All of the counselors are trying in their own ways. I know that for a fact." With that, she spun on her heel and headed to Drew's office. Percy raced after her and decided to stumble through the doorway before she could say something embarrassing.

Drew had just folded herself into her chair, a Cheshire magenta-colored grin that spread all the way into her cheeks. "Well, Percy, I didn't know you'd get angry. Do you need to cool off?"

"No. I needed a break."

"Oh, that's fine," she purred. She was laying it on extra thick. Percy suddenly felt a random thread of guilt he immediately pushed away. He hardly cared about her feelings.

"Thanks for the notebook." He picked it up and hugged it loosely to his chest.

Drew dipped her chin into a nod. "Well, it belongs to you now," she said, but she laid her hand on herself.

Percy blinked multiple times. Finally, he decided to say, "Drew, I'm sure there are better people for….," he cleared his throat and decided not to try and figure out whatever she wanted, "than me, and I want you to stop if we're going to get through more months of this. Thanks." He pushed the chair in and strode out, maybe a little hurriedly so she wouldn't have a chance to reply.

Nurse Jalilah squinted at him. "What did you do?" Her pocket started vibrating intensely. A flush immediately seeped through her warm brown skin.

He felt a smirk pull at unfamiliar muscles on his face. "And what's that?"

She frowned, and finally pulled out her phone, maybe to make up for forcing him inside. From an angle, Percy could see that there were fifteen texts from Cillian, the only male nurse at Sunny Mountain. The top one read: "wat did i do wrong *sad whimpering emoji*". Nurse Jalilah pressed the screen of her phone to her chest. "Nothing."

She was waiting for him, Percy realized. He felt a tiny bit of warmth inside. And then Nurse Florence's notoriously squeaky shoes were echoing down the hallway.

"Your first meeting with Doctor Tanaka, huh? How'd it go?" She grinned and then eyeballed the empty space his IV normally stood.

Percy exchanged a gaze with Nurse Jalilah, whose fingers were clearly poised to write a response. "It was alright. I'd like to go back to my room, thanks. And is there really no other counselor?"

Nurse Florence cocked her head. "You're not supposed to switch, sorry, Mr. Jackson. I'll take you back to your room."

He glanced back one last time, and Nurse Jalilah was grinning in the glow of her phone screen.

-line break-

It turned out Octavian decided not to join movie night with the rest of everyone else. Percy's plans of burying his face into his blankets and thinking about nothing were swiped away when he saw the giant Popsicle-stick temple Octavian was building in the middle of the floor. It looked rather realistic, and he wondered what Annabeth would think about it.

Except thinking the name Annabeth felt like a stab in his heart. Percy turned to Nurse Florence and asked quietly, "Can I go outside instead?"

Nurse Florence rolled her eyes. "Jeez, y'all get pickier every day. All right, hurry it up, Mr. Jackson."

He accidentally wondered aloud what she had to do instead as they headed for the doorway, and Nurse Florence snorted. "Another one of your brethren needs her daily methadone pills."

He wasn't feeling bothered by being bunched-together with other heroin addicts. Percy could remember that. The morning at the diner where he could make himself eat and when she touched his wrist. When he was thinking he would never leave a session with her for anything. Something twisted by his heart.

There were some lawn chairs set by the guardhouse, and Nurse Florence unceremoniously dragged one over. "He's just borrowing it!" she called back. "Also, Jim, keep an eye on him."

Percy sat down and awkwardly waved back at Nurse Florence as she headed inside. It was freezing. Nothing moved on the road before him. The cold air bit into his sluggish, weepy thoughts, but his blood also seemed to stop flowing into his fingers. Maybe he should've considered bringing the Odyssey, which he never took out of his duffel, except he hardly felt like concentrating on anything. He brought his knees up to his chest, and hoping Jim didn't feel too bothered at his sneakers on the lawn chair, rested his face on his jeans.

Percy didn't want to put everything into "depressed." But it was probably the only thing to describe him. He was too tired for all of his. He couldn't be here. Maybe this torment was what he deserved, because he would relish in disappearing. Maybe he would be doing a favor if he stopped seeing everybody and sunk away into this forgotten institution, and could finally save the people he loved.

"Percy?" someone called out.

He lifted his head like it weighed a million tons and blearily looked up to see Nurse Rosa. She seemed a little surprised to see him, but she was also holding out something. His blanket.

Percy gratefully mustered a small smile for her. He couldn't hold it in place for long and ducked his chin as he wrapped it around himself. Nurse Rosa dragged another chair over and handed him something new—a mug of chamomile tea.

Percy felt something warm whispering down his cheek.

"Oh, honey," Nurse Rosa didn't even bother to be subtle, "what is it?"

He wanted to say "nothing," but he couldn't bring himself to do so. "I don't want to go back outside," he whispered, trying to discreetly wipe the tear away.

Nurse Rosa sighed. "I thought you might've wanted to escape," she said with a small laugh. "Percy, it's okay that you're not ready. We all need time."

"Yeah, but nothing will be the same anymore." Nurse Rosa began talking about how little other people's views should matter, but he was thinking about the first time Annabeth served him tea while he was falling asleep. Neither of them were the same person, and of course that was to be expected, but what about their relationship? Could they still be friends if he just went and admitted he liked her? "It's broken," he muttered.

Nurse Rosa paused. "What is?" she asked tenderly.

"My relationships. All of them." Something was burning behind his eyes.

She only nodded. "Me too."

He turned.

"Well, I never got trained for this, so I'll just tell you some you can fix easily and some you just won't. Be happy you've got the time you've got to be sad about it." She reached out and patted the arm of his chair. "When you've got mouths to feed, there's no more time." She pushed herself up with a grunt, like she was proving her point. "I have to check on Pollux, his pee is being a little weird."

Percy couldn't help making a face, and she laughed.

"Take care of yourself, okay, Percy? Dinner's in an hour, come inside if you're cold. My pay will be docked if someone drops dead." She grinned mischievously and headed back inside.

And because he never stopped thinking about her, he thought that Annabeth would never leave him alone outside. Maybe there were no guards to watch him, or she just felt more comfortable keeping someone company than Nurse Rosa, but he did have to take care of himself. He didn't even have the papers to sign in to Sunny Mountain.

Less than an hour later, he went inside and jiggled beneath a heating vent for a while to warm up, and then crept into the movie room to sit beside Butch. And they headed to dinner together.

-line break-

Percy consciously knew at the back of his mind that he was running out of time. He would have to celebrate New Year's at Sunny Mountain.

The groups stuck doing arts and crafts on December 31st complained loudly during meals about all the decorations they had to make. The nurses were sporting party hats with little pompoms, and the beautiful handiwork of those groups were strewn all across the building. They got Eggs Benedict and Lucky Charms for breakfast, which of course caused a minor commotion with Khione and Leila. But it was all deliciously unhealthy.

Gwen blew a little party popper as they trooped into her room. She was standing that morning, and there were little streamers and balloons drawn onto her prop-up whiteboard. "Hey people! I'm so excited for today!" She pointed her popper at Butch. "Guess what we're doing!"

Leila burst in. "New Year's Resolutions," she hedged. She had been here for a while.

Gwen clapped. "Great job! Yeah, and we'll be discussing hopeful visions for the next year, and the best things we've done so far."

Percy sat down and murmured to Butch, "So, how do we celebrate here?" His roommates usually ordered fried chicken and knocked back copious amounts of beer as they watched the ball down. He remembered sitting as far as he could from Harvey and nibbling on a piece, though over the years he would just go to bed early because their Christmas break at Freidman's ended then.

Gwen's eyes flickered to them, but she continued pressing Pollux for answers. Butch shrugged. "There's a snack table for those who can eat from it and we gather together to hear a speech from Mr. Janus. The ball drop is recorded for tomorrow morning."

Percy hoped his disdain or incredulity didn't show. "Oh."

Butch's eyes gleamed with humor. "If you really want to stay up, Dr. Windley can get you a pass. She's been getting a lot of complaints though, so I don't know it that'll work."

Gwen finished with, "I know New Year's a drinking holiday, but it never has to be one! I know you'll have a much better time without alcohol, Pollux." She smiled when he gave her a slow nod. Then she turned to Octavian. "So, what went well this year?"

"A lot! I predicted the storm, even though no one listened! And I think my food sacrifices were well-received—"

"Wait." Gwen looked aghast. "Where did you get the fire?"

The rest of the day flew by. They still had to do recreation, but at least it was just walking around the green space, nothing too strenuous, while their supervisor "Coach" Hedge yelled at them to move faster. And then for dinner, they had barbecued ribs, sweet potato fries, string beans, and orange slices. The whole dining room happily applauded when wobbly trays of custards were set outside, and then it became a mosh pit as they fought for pieces.

Percy had a flashback to the Christmas dinner, but it was hardly the same. The whole group of crazed ex-drug addicts only got dessert on holidays, and some of them definitely enjoyed hitting for the fun of it. Khione was threatening to headbutt anyone with her spiky crown if they were in the way; every single burly guy but Butch was elbowing like mad, and Percy may have broken someone's nose with his bony shoulder.

The cafeteria chefs were still yelling that everyone had a piece when they finally got settled down, after the involvement of nurses. One of Khione's 24-hour supervising nurses, Tanya, scowled at their entire table for the rest of dinner. Finally, Percy followed everyone outside in the stream to the assembly room.

Mr. Janus had a messy pile of papers he kept straightening, and the thuds kept broadcasting into his microphone, cutting off some of his words, and Percy's eyes had glazed over after a few moments. He left the stage eventually and someone put on a litany of Steven Spielberg movies. The nurses had put out some snacks, and Pollux seemed to incline his head at Percy to go browse through while _E.T._ played.

Coincidentally, Nurse Cillian was waiting by the table closest to the end of the row. Percy eyed him and grinned.

"Uh, hullo," Nurse Cillian said back in his undeniably charming Irish accent. "Would you like something?"

Percy was just imagining him acting out the whimpering emoji. "No, I'm good."

Nurse Cillian spread his hands out over the food. "Why are you here, then?"

Pollux stood forward and lightly rolled his eyes at Percy. "Drinks?" he asked lowly, pointing at the rows of paper cups with his only hand.

Nurse Cillian leaned over with clearly brilliant abdominal strength and straightened. "Is ginger ale okay?"

Pollux nodded and took a slow sip. Nurse Cillian turned back to Percy. "So?"

His eyes fell on rows of buttery yellow, cinnamon-dusted cookies. "Snickerdoodles!" he gasped, while trying not to seem to obviously happy.

Nurse Cillian kindly pushed five onto his plate. "And would you like some apple juice to go with that?" he asked ironically. On the screen behind them, the characters were going out for trick-o-treating.

"Actually, I'd like some Coke, thanks."

"Wow, big boy drink," Nurse Arihi muttered from her station, and winked at Percy.

Pollux made to head back, but Percy definitely had more to do. He faced Nurse Cillian square-on. "I hope you don't like her just because you're both stuck here," he said, paraphrasing the reason he fell for Rachel and Annabeth. Because they were the only girls who showed any interest in him, and he wanted someone to wipe all his issues away, but those were only slight differences. "And, like a wise guy once told me, don't wait for the perfect time. It might never come."

Nurse Cillian was squinting at him with a blush tinging his cheeks, and Nurse Arihi and Pollux were both gawking, so Percy first scooched back across the row to get to his seat.

They went through three more movies and most of the snacks before everyone was getting lulled to sleep by the screen's hazy light and dimness across the auditorium. But then the staff gathered together to yell, "Happy New Year!" startling the whole crowd, and they were shuttled back to their rooms.

Percy definitely felt an ache that Annabeth would stay up with her pets or maybe the Valdezes and Reyna for a few more hours, and they would have their own countdown, and he would wake up for another year without her there like he'd done so every other year but suddenly found it empty without her, and that he would have to push through his resolutions without her guidance, and of course, the idea that this was for her good. Which he knew it was.

_Soon_, he thought, curling under his blankets and uselessly shutting his eyes, _maybe I'll be better, and I can see her again, and it'll be easier to stop thinking about everything else. _

**When you start shipping some random OCs because you forcibly removed the other member of your OTP from the chapter *facepalm*. (Sorry, I've been reading too many Percy Jackson memes on Pinterest.) So, some more trivia. Unfortunately, I forgot about the specific etymology (root meaning), but Nyakio is a Kenyan name, Arihi is from the Pacific Islands, Jalilah is Islamic/Arabic, and Cillian is Irish. Rosa is Hispanic, if you didn't know. Also, Strawberry Hill is from Crash Course (Literature!), which John Green's younger version apparently couldn't even stomach a bottle of, BUT also references the strawberries Castor and Pollux used to grow in CHB. **

**Okay, for the news. Since I seem to really enjoy making the same mistakes over and over—not researching a topic before plunging into a fic and then rewriting them with remotely more accuracy (my previous multi-chap is a good example ;)), I'm doing it again! Not a multi-chap, I like most of this plot well enough. I'll just release a oneshot in my oneshot collection Prompts and More Prompts, titled "The Ugly Truth Behind 'Therapy' by me" :). When it's done, I'll include the link. **

**Review replies:**

**Mr. Gilborg: I'm glad you liked it! Yes, Reyna and Annabeth do have a more complicated relationship, more should be revealed in the future. Writing Annabeth's "break in perfection" was definitely fun, I'm so glad I can use more character now and honestly, when you mentioned the things that were revealed about her, I was just thinking, "You guys don't know that?" Yeah, I need to get out of my head more. **

**No, I totally understand, I don't like Octavian or Drew either. I just imagined rehab to be a pretty unpleasant experience for Percy, since he's being forced to go clean, and the other characters might as well continue that for him. (Or something. I don't even know my reasoning.) It was Castor who died in the Battle of the Labyrinth *inserts citation for the wikia* and no, I did not consider killing Octavian to be dark. I originally thought both of them died and was going to casually bring up their alcohol poisoning in an obituary Percy would read once he was out of rehab. But I don't want to write a direct death, never been a fan of working in that area, so yeah, he's just going to *spoiler* disappear… (By the way, Lee made an appearance in an earlier chapter, and you guys can just assume he died during that street fight.) And I think I've been following the canon's deaths closely. It's not like ToA is real or anything. No, seriously. Denial is the earliest stage of grief. **

**And about climaxes, thank you for being nice about it, I definitely think cliffhangers would probably make this better. It's kind of been one of those higher-level things to me, and also I'm a sucker for happy endings, but a lot more stuff is happening in a short expanse of chapters so yeah, hopefully things get more interesting! I'll do my best. And I enjoy your reviews so much, you don't even know, editing this has been really great so totally looking forward to hearing your final thoughts! I have put bits of foreshadowing and other stuff everywhere, so maybe that'll be fun to look for (or I'm just a horrible nerd). **

**For the last part, about Thalia or maybe Reyna being able to connect more easily…that's a really interesting perspective on things. But I mean, neither of them used drugs either? I won't spoil it for you, but relationship dynamics will change a little. And they are all valuable to him of course, so yeah. And you're totally coherent, don't worry about that, I get so much from your reviews!**

**Guest: I'm going to take that as a compliment so thanks a lot! I'll save you the trouble, I'm currently inhabiting an abandoned Roman fort somewhere in the Swiss Alps with a pack of 20 or so guard dogs (mostly German shepherds and some border collies). No, I wish. I will definitely try to update faster, I'm so sorry about how slow this was, but my first draft kind of sucked. And a lot will be happening, though I am writing a lot daily, so this is totally inconclusive. I really will try, though. I hope you liked this chapter, and thanks again! **

**Guest (Sorry I have no way of differentiation; I just like to think of you as the nice one;)): Hey! Thanks for your nice review! Ah, no, the stuff I found less important would be watching mindless TV or something, which is somewhat enjoyable but not useful in any way. I didn't really mind the other review, I do stick to my own pace (you actually happened to review on the same day I was going to post) but I could definitely do better than two-three weeks. It's totally your choice to read or not, I definitely do not hold anything against you, hopefully you're having fun with college! **


	23. Chapter 23

**So, I've finally made good progress on a short novella! Check out for REALLY helpful writing advice. (Or if you have any specific writing issues or complaints, ask me! No guarantee that I'll be helpful but I'd like to try :).) Also, I think a song that represents a dynamic in my OOC Percy and Annabeth relationship really well is "peace" by Taylor Swift, it is explicit so I'm not necessarily recommending it, but it's such a raw representative of feeling like you're not good enough for someone you love. (By the way, this is exactly one of those Pinterest memes—when you like a song you can't relate to...but your OTP can!)**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: Gratitude journals are intended to increase gratefulness and overall satisfaction with life, which it does create a habit of. But it also delivers other positive effects such as greater energy, enthusiasm, determination, and sleeping time. It also encourages people to be more receptive of others' problems. _

The next morning, at breakfast, some nurses had wheeled a TV into the dining room, and they watched the ball drop. Leila had bobbed her head to the countdown, but no one cheered. The TV was wheeled away, out of sight.

Sunny Mountain was like some faded fantasy enclave the main characters got redirected into on their journey. Like Narnia, though that was the plot of the movie. (They picked out fantasy movies for the week, and the Witch bore some eerie similarities with Khione.) Or maybe it was just the actual Hobbit homes and the adventure only started when they were left behind. Percy was sure that if Annabeth heard him referencing these as movies, she would smack him.

But everything sluggishly faded into each other. Percy thought he knew routine from working at Freidman's, but that didn't come close. He was guided through the same schedule every week and everyone else mirrored him. A few things filtered through, but they were mundane—particularly nasty fights, that time he avoided Drew for days on end because she still acted like a creep, getting a whole five hours' worth of rest one night, but that was pretty much it.

He felt half-dead.

"Percy?"

He swiveled back to look at Dr. Windley. The freckled rise of her cheekbones slowly muddled into view. She cast a glance at the frothy succulent on her swept-clean windowsill. "Is anything the matter?"

"No, I'm good." He'd been staring out the windows a lot recently. All the recreation grass was frozen over, and the ice-reflected chain-link fence glinted.

They'd just gone through his biweekly health check, and she said he was doing fine, except he needed to sleep more, which was pretty normal. She also noticed that his cholesterol was a little higher than normal and warned him to stop taking extra dessert servings.

"Well, I was asking you about the matter of your stay," she repeated tiredly. Dr. Windley pointed to her color-coded calendar. "Dr. Annabeth Chase, I believe, has left it up for you to decide."

Percy raked both his hands through his hair. It probably stuck out like crazy. "I don't know." His eyes lingered over the first few weeks of January. He wanted to leave so badly and taste the exhaust-tinged air of the outside world, but he would probably stumble over himself while turning a circle on the asphalt. "How long do people usually say?"

Dr. Windley switched the way her hands were folded beneath her chin. "That differs for everyone, because the road to recovery has no set formula."

His mind raced to drum up anything. He knew Dr. Windley wasn't going to let him out anytime soon, but he needed a reason.

Work. Even with Chris "holding down the fort," he wasn't going to just take the money his roommate earned, and there was no guarantee Pike would take him back. Seeing Harvey again. His heart clenched. And maybe he would have the leave all the way in…Jason and Piper were having a wedding in spring. The feel of Jason's large hand on his shoulder, his sky-and-weather all rolled together smell, and the way Piper would sometimes grin at his engagement ring, it all surfaced.

He would hate the plane ride, and probably make a whole mess of such a momentous occasion for the both of them, but that was something he needed to attend.

"Early spring," he blurted out.

Dr. Windley raised an eyebrow. "It's usually recommended that you spend a longer time here, Percy. I feel a little hesitant signing off on that."

He shifted in his seat, hearing the response of the cracked pleather. He could be stuck here forever, which wouldn't really matter, but he'd entirely forgotten that his friends were counting on him to show up.

And Harvey. He was still wasting away in that stinky, gloomy apartment. Percy—he didn't want to finish the thought, but Percy had left him there.

"I need to attend my friend's wedding. Please."

Her hazel eyes were inscrutable from the deep hollow of her eyes. "We'll need to perform a mental consultation on you. But none of this can be timed."

Percy breathed out, lightly fluttering the pages of her calendar. "Yeah, of course not." He looked away. "I'll come back if I need to," he said unwillingly.

Dr. Windley cocked her head. "Well. I'll have to say, frankly, I hope I don't see you afterwards." She offered him a small consolidating smile before picking up a pink pen and making a symbol in the first week of March.

And then he was ushered outside to the empty hallway since he had finally been freed of nurse escorts.

-line break-

The next moment he consciously but vaguely remembered was at night. It was past curfew, but Pollux and Butch were playing gin rummy on Butch's bunk, Octavian was deliriously muttering things to himself, and Percy had just found a semi-comfortable position his bed when he remembered that Drew was going to check his gratitude journal the next day.

By policy or something, she was only supposed to flick through. Percy didn't trust that, though, so his first week, he wrote "1. Air, 2. Food, 3. Water, 4. Shelter, and 5. Clothing" every single day and Drew stopped acting like the tiny notebook contained government secrets immediately. She also couldn't read his handwriting.

The pages were stained with splashed water or food stains, and the cheap plastic pens kept breaking and splotching all over the notebook. He flipped to his most recent earmark and tried to smooth down the stiff paper. Carefully clicking his newest pen, he scribbled the date in the corner and jotted the column of numbers down the margins.

Percy drummed the pen against his pillow. On the days when he couldn't come up with anything, he just wrote "1. Air, 2. Food, 3. Water, 4. Shelter, and 5. Clothing" again. But it kind of felt like a waste of the notebook, even if it was Drew's half-founded assignment, and coming up with something new was the only way to break through the mundanity.

He scribbled down the donuts they'd gotten that day, his first celebrated Scrabble win, clothing, and glancing across his bed, the tiny little panda pet Calypso had stuffed into his suitcase. It still smelled a little like the Valdezes' apartment: smoke and cinnamon and baking bread and lavender detergent.

The final answer came to him easily. With a grin, Percy pressed the tip of his pen into the paper and scrawled out Jason and Piper. Though he had to take a minute to try and spell out their names.

And then he flipped his notebook shut, wedged it into his duffel beneath his bed, and rewrapped his blankets around him. And then he stared up at the bars of Octavian's bunk and wondered what a best man was supposed to do.

-line break-

Visiting hours were once a week and happened in the mornings, usually in the middle of a group meeting because Sunny Mountain was so out of the way. It never mattered much to them, because only Khione's dad dropped by sporadically to figure out what was going on with her. It was not an affair even Gwen talked much about.

But while Octavian was ordering them around in building a "New Rome" out of Legos inside the game room, Nurse Hannah suddenly popped in and accidentally nudged over Leila's wobbly Meeting Hall or something or other.

Octavian glowered fiercely as Nurse Hannah squatted down beside Percy and explained that someone had tried to book a visit.

His blood turned to sleet. He could very well imagine who.

"It says here its someone named Annabeth Chase," Nurse Hannah informed him. "Oh, what a pretty name."

"That's not a real name," Khione dismissed easily.

"Why are you using ice Legos to build the Tiber?" Octavian snapped at her.

Percy's pulse was thudding against his neck, hard enough to bruise. "Um. Is she coming here?"

Nurse Hannah shook her head, and her carrot-colored bun twitched comically. "No, you get to accept or decline visits, silly."

He knew he should decline. In front of everyone. But what would happen then? Would she reach out to the office—she knew the address and the phone number, to hear the flat response from some assistant, or would she stave away in silence? He didn't want her to receive a filtered explanation through an email. And he was pretty sure she could enter if she wanted, and she was just doing it through the regulations out of courtesy.

He wanted to send her a personal message. Preferably one he didn't really have to know the reply of. Since he might as well have made that into a habit.

But he could hardly say he was declining Annabeth Chase out loud. Even if it was the truth.

His groupmates had moved on from him already; he went quiet a lot recently, and Octavian of course had a lot of theories about that, while Nurse Hannah blinked at him inquisitively. "Do you want to choose later?"

"No. I can't see her. But tell her," he lowered his voice, "to wait for a message."

Nurse Hannah sat back on her heels. "Oh. Okay. Thank you."

He didn't want to say "you're welcome," because he really didn't do anything to deserve that, so he just nodded slightly.

He still had no idea how to actually send her a message.

-line break-

The rest of the requests came pouring in, as weird as that was to think. Percy tried to ignore the looks his group sometimes gave him. They, well, at least some of them, were, in reality, happy for him, but he didn't think it was beneath them. A big happy quote-unquote family rarely lined up for rehab waiting rooms, and Percy was hardly the best person to receive one.

Nurse Citlali ambushed him at breakfast, while he was peering suspiciously at all the bell peppers in his omelet. She told him Hazel Levesque and Frank Zhang had signed up, and that they would be arriving that very day if he conceded. Multiple people raised an eyebrow when his expression melted, and when he replied in a crushed voice, "Yeah. I'm looking forward to it."

He was. He switched to his cleanest shirt (Sunny Mountain suddenly got the brilliant idea to make them wash and hang up all their clothes to dry) and tried running a comb through his tangled hair after finishing his food. But they were a reminder of the outside world, and well, there was someone else outside that was still waiting.

Nurse Citlali guided him to the meeting room. It was located at the front of the building—next to the lobby, which was recently getting refurnished. Percy wouldn't even dream of crossing through the construction area, because apparently a few of those crazed crackheads that loved frolicking past cautionary tape that gotten intentionally smacked by hardhats, and Nurse Citlali was with him, so they had to brave the outdoors.

The recreation area was not very large, but with shards of snow running into Percy's eyes, he tucked his chin into his coat and ran. In the back of his mind, he could still see the snow melting on Annabeth's toasted shoulders. Nurse Citlali giggled at him.

The room was small, crowded with squeaky wooden seats and a gargling heater, and was completely empty save for a bundle of coats on the side. Hazel lifted out a hand and waved.

"I've leave you here, then," Nurse Citlali murmured. She exchanged glances with a sleepy-looking guard by the doorway Percy only then noticed.

"Hey," Frank murmured happily when Percy folded himself into the third seat of their corner table. "How are you doing?"

He grinned stiffly. The area smelled like peppermint gum, cheesy breakfast burritos, woodsy aftershave. "I'm okay. Not much is happening."

Hazel propped her chin up with fisted hands. "What's it like here?"

Percy leaned back and regaled them with his schedule. "The food's also pretty good."

Hazel smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah. Just the other day we had grilled pizzas."

"No way." This was Frank, looking a little hungry.

"Yeah. They a lot of plant-based protein, though."

They nodded, clearly well-educated by Piper.

"It sounds pretty nice," Hazel ventured.

"Yeah. I'm glad Annabeth picked it." He was proud of himself for being able to keep his voice calm.

"Percy, is there anything we can do to help?" Frank said after clearing his throat. Hazel immediately exchanged a slew of glances with him.

He blinked in response. "Um, no, not really. I just have to hope this all works out."

They nodded. "I believe in you," Frank added softly. Hazel aimed a sharp glance at him, and he stiffened slightly like there was something they'd talked about beforehand, but the tension in their eyes slowly faded.

Percy wanted to diffuse things somehow. He suspected all of the weird vibes were because of him. "Actually, there is something." Hazel straightened.

"I just remembered Piper's wedding," he said and laughed a little.

She nodded. "Yeah." Looking a little wary, she asked, "Is there something you want us to tell them?"

He suddenly felt a flash of worry that they thought he was better off staying inside. "Uh, no, not really. The doctor said I can leave by then." He paused, and she nodded eagerly. "I was just wondering about the details."

Frank snorted and then fixed his expression to look more apologetic when Hazel shot him a look. "Piper really hates weddings, so they haven't even started planning. Right now their best idea is going out to dinner."

"But Jason's picked me to be best man." Percy bit his lip.

"Right." Hazel spoke up. "Then the toast is your job. You probably just need to arrange a bachelor's party. Guys just watch movies and eat junk food at those, right?" She glanced at Frank for confirmation.

Frank blinked. "It's Jason. I don't think we're eating junk food. Maybe a trivia night or something." Hazel laughed and placed her hand over his.

Percy probably would've panicked at the idea, but now he had plenty of time to think up of facts. "Right. Well, uh, maybe I'll call him about it."

When they realized he didn't have access to his phone, and also hardly remembered most of their numbers, Hazel scribbled them all down for him on a scrap from her sketchbook. And then she gave him the greatest gift of them all: she lifted out a laptop.

"We were wondering if you were bored, or what you got to do here." She exchanged another sheepish glance with Frank. Percy felt like another language was being spoken.

"We didn't know you had movie nights. This was Leo's idea," Frank added immediately.

Hazel hesitantly turned the screen around to him, and it was the Netflix page for "The Princess and the Frog." Percy felt a small grin creep onto his face.

"Thank Leo for me, then."

-line break-

Percy learned that Hazel hated clichés and that he should never mention Pocahontas and Piper around her in one sentence, but she thought Tiana was an amazing character. She chattered from time to time about the parts of it that represented New Orleans, all the aspects of Creole culture Tiana showed, though Tiana's hair was a lot more manageable than hers (she had her hair clipped back in barrettes today), and Frank savored over the food. Percy thought smugly that Louisiana would be a great honeymoon location for them, as long as it wasn't during the summer.

Their time was cut short for lunch, and when Percy helped Frank into his broad-shouldered coat and waved goodbye, he had a weird feeling he wouldn't see them again for a long time. That they would be of different worlds then.

And then it became obvious that he was hanging around Octavian too much if he got premonitions.

The day after, he was barraged with questions at the group meeting. Even Pollux was paying avid attention. Nurse Citlali was apparently a gossip, and regardless of that, Khione had barged into Mr. Janus' office at the end of yesterday's meeting to peek at Hazel and Frank as they left. They had many questions about how he met a nice, civilian-seeming interracial couple, why they showed up to see him, and then the civilian people he knew in general. "Were you third-wheeling?" Leila asked innocently. "They're not in love with you." It might've been an act, but he couldn't really tell anymore.

He tried to keep out as much personal information as possible, but they knew about Annabeth already (only the true extent of his feelings was between Gwen and Butch), so at least he could explain enough to keep them content. And then Octavian started ranting about their potential in guiding New Rome as something and Gwen had him stand outside in the hallway for a bit to calm down.

Gwen suppressed her curiosity well and eventually interrupted the interrogating to ask him how he felt, and if, this part was a little more forceful, there was anything for the group to gain.

"It was really nice. I'm glad I got to see that they still think about me. Uh." He glanced around the circle. "It's worth waiting for?"

Gwen beamed. "Excellent!"

Khione raised an unimpressed eyebrow, but she probably didn't want to waste her energy commenting and then arguing with Gwen.

The rest of the meeting phased over, their conversations rising and lulling easily, and at the turn of the clock, everyone shoved out of their seats, because they had the game room again and Octavian had long since proposed a game of Monopoly, but it was one of the favorite board games. Percy followed at the back and saw Gwen flipping through her thick notebook. He paused in the doorway, letting everyone else through. He heard the angry shrieking of nurses as they collided into carts or raced around corners.

Gwen glanced up after a moment. "Oh, Percy? Do you need something?"

He cleared his throat. He randomly remembered Jason saying not to wait for the right moment, even though he wasn't planning on professing his love or something to Gwen. But he supposed it applied in some way. "Uh, yeah." He moved back to his chair and stood behind it. "I want to write a note….to Annabeth."

Gwen's eyes slowly light up. "Oh. Wow. That's romantic," she breathed. And then she shook herself. "Sorry. Yeah, of course. What should I do?"

"Um…how do I send it out?"

"Oh. The main office's secretary should be able to pass it off to the mailman…" her face fell after mulling over it. "No, that'll take forever to get to her. Actually, if you want, I drive here from Brooklyn every day. And I head downtown on the weekends, I can drop by her address."

Percy straightened. "Really?" He knew it would be perfectly safe with her, and that was a terribly nice offer because she still came to work on the weekends and didn't even have all that much time to spend in Manhattan.

"Yeah. Should I Google her, or do you know where?"

He gave Gwen the address of Annabeth's apartment and Half-Blood Hill, in case the one by her home was filled with junk mail and never opened, and she offered the meeting room to him. "Those rotating groups sometimes come here, but only on Wednesdays and Thursdays. It's all yours."

He thought back to the game room, and he could very well imagine the chaos a game of Monopoly was causing with his group. He sat down without hesitation and ripped out the back page of his gratitude journal.

Gwen helpfully spelled things out for him, and when his pen inevitably broke, she simply slid one out from her breast pocket. Luckily the ink mostly spilled on his pants, and it was a short message.

He didn't want to put the weight on Thalia. And it was mostly his fault, anyway. He wrote, "Hi, Annabeth. I'm not going to meet you here because you deserve that time to yourself. And I shouldn't be wasting it. Thank you for everything you've given to me. Maybe we can talk about this and what I sent you before when I leave Sunny Mountain, but please don't reach out. I'm sorry I took your life apart." He folded it with tight corners and taped up the envelope Gwen handed to him.

"I'm glad you wrote this," she told him, her eyes flickering over his expression to try and analyze it.

Percy nodded and sharply turned around to find his groupmates and the game of Monopoly.

-line break-

It was pretty horrible, but the exact details weren't apparent to him, because they had many worse ones. Especially when Nurse Florence, in a good mood from her newest bonus, had offered them a contraband game named Sorry Not Sorry, which was definitely one of her worst ideas. They had to join in with the dish-washing _and_ dealing with the other semi-scarred group that shared the game room with them that day.

Grover came to visit him immediately after. He was growing a scruffy beard, and he smelled earthy. He was also wearing that terrible matching sweater. The gardening was going wonderfully, but he deeply regretted hanging those vines from the roof of his closet/bedroom. Juniper was also testing out a farm-to-table vegan cookbook with him as the willing taste-tester and it sounded absolutely gourmet. He was definitely getting a little pudgier around the middle.

It was a little awkward. His best friend who had successfully graduated college and was at least the only one employed between them and had gotten caught up in dealing because of him was now visiting Percy, the directionless high school dropout, in rehab. He had instinctively burrowed inside his blue hoodie and curled against the table, but Grover bleated his terrible goat-laugh when Percy mumbled something about Gwen and they rolled their eyes affectionately at each other and it was familiar again.

Of course, since he was Grover, he blabbed on and on about Valentine's Day. Juniper's gift for a trip to the savannah was so extravagant, he was spit-balling ideas about renting out the botanical garden or getting a band to serenade them in the forest. Percy didn't want the gossipy guard or Citlali to report anything back, but he did his best to verbally smack some sense into Grover. They finally decided on a hiking trip in the Rocky Mountains, so they would still pass through forests, just without impromptu singing.

He also talked about all the enterprises his big environmental activist friend group (all the way back from high school) was getting into, and a few he wanted to try out so he could continue saving up for Juniper's engagement ring. He wasn't very close to the full price yet, but he thought he could propose on their road trip around Kenya.

He also gave Percy a ton of suggestions for the bachelor's party, and they stood in an overly long embrace. It was uncomfortable being held by someone he knew for the longest time, but Grover let out a cathartic gasp when he finally tugged back his arms and not-so-discreetly smudged away his tears.

"Come on, G-man," Percy said softly. Grover snuffled and patted his shoulders, looking away.

"Stay safe, please."

"I'll be alright."

"Thanks for your suggestions. Man, when did you become such a lover boy?" Grover burbled.

Percy took a small step back to encourage Grover to also move towards the door. "I don't know. I mean, never. That was nothing."

"Right." Grover wiped his nose and kept by Percy's side until they got to the side entrance. The wind crashed through the hallway when Grover opened the door, and little flakes of snow were already tanging in Grover's hair.

"You can come back again," Percy reminded him. The cold buffeted against his body.

"Yeah, I definitely will."

"Then I see you."

Grover stood there and smiled sadly. "Yeah, I'll see you, Percy." He slowly turned and trudged off to his bike.

But something must've happened on that short trip, after Percy turned around and accepted a plate of grilled tempeh from the cafeteria, because his counseling session was weirder than usual.

He had just settled into his chair and drawn out his gratitude journal. Drew spun from blankly staring at a poster on her wall to accosting Percy with a squint.

"So. I just learned something today," she hummed.

"Oh. Okay."

Drew leaned in. At least she wasn't half-sprawled over the table like she originally did the first time, and Percy reminded himself to write that down. "So, you once told me something."

"Yeah?" He wondered if he should feel alerted.

"Uh-huh." She seemed to be waiting for a response. When she got none, she brought the tips of her spiky platinum nails together. They tapped plastically. "But you misled me, Percy."

He leaned back in his chair and wracked his mind for something specific.

Disappointed that he didn't respond, Drew shuffled in her chair, hitching up her tangerine minidress. "You're not married," she finally spat out, and everything else came out rapid-fire. "You don't have a ring, any marriage records, or even an existing spouse anyone is aware of!"

_Oh_, Percy thought. That was a stupid and impulsive moment of him. It was probably not worth all the blabbing and sneaking around Drew now did to him, but he couldn't help be slightly amused.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" She shrieked.

There was a rap on the door. Dr. Park (she was one of the illustriously few counselors with a medical degree), who deeply resented getting mixed up with Drew, scowled deeply. "This is not some reality show drama. Quiet down, Tanaka."

Drew puffed up her chest. "Mind your own business, Minseo!"

Dr. Park offered Percy a sympathetic look, and he was almost about to plead to join her session with whoever else it was, but the door shut behind her too quickly.

"How did you even find out?"

She grinned smugly for a moment. "Everyone knows that you need to have everyone you know in on a lie, or it won't work out."

Percy eventually realized that Grover was probably not coming back, after getting ambushed by Drew.

-line break-

The second time since Percy was there, Gwen pulled out crayons and paper, and she told them to draw their favorite, happiest-feeling place.

"I know it sounds stupid. But I want you guys to think about what it looks like from different angles. And you'll remember it better this way."

Her own was very slapdash. She held it up while most of them were still working, except for Leila, who just squinted at her paper. Gwen had drawn some possible relatives with the same color of reddish-brown hair like her and a smiling yellow Labrador in the open trunk of a car with a big round sun. "This is called your happy place. I want you to remember it."

She walked around, looking over their drawings. Percy had picked up a blue crayon and decided to sloppily draw a stack of circles. When Gwen looked questioningly at him, he shrugged. "I have no idea what these are."

"Oh. That's alright. Just figure out where it is, okay?"

So he added the sunny yellow tablecloth, the Mason jars on the windowsill of the kitchen, a flat two-dimensional fridge with Montauk bottle poppers. It was really a jumble of shapes to any other eye, but the details were hovering up and he savored the few vague sensory details that were coming back.

It was something he would remember to include in his gratitude journal later.

Gwen sat back down and crossed her legs. "Alright. So why do you need a happy place? It's somewhere to be whenever you're somewhere you don't want to be. Let's test them out!"

Whenever he closed his eyes, he was usually forcing himself to sleep. He fought off the tap of tiredness and placed himself back into his kitchen, where buttery cookies and oozing chocolate wisped up to his nose and his mother's voice was just around the corner, calling out from by the bathroom that he wasn't supposed to eat them until they cooled or else they wouldn't be firm enough Perseus Jackson!

She'd long known that he wouldn't be bothered by burning his fingertips. "You sacrifice yourself so easily," she murmured to him once, when he was mostly asleep. "What if you come to harm?"

"Thank you, citizens of Rome!" Octavian suddenly boomed, his eyes still shut. Percy jumped in his chair and caught Gwen's temporally exasperated expression.

He was literally miming accepting something and placing it atop his head, and he lifted his face to an imaginary sun. "Under the blessing of Jupiter Maximus, I, Octavian Augusta Julius—"

Khione snorted loudly and kicked his chair leg, and Octavian almost fell off. He glared at Khione with unadulterated fury.

"Guys," Gwen added pleadingly. "Let's not do anything stupid…"

"You will be cursed by the gods!" Octavian screamed.

"Well, they can try to come and get me, but I sleep with an arsenal of weapons under my pillow!" Khione threatened. "I know everyone has been plotting to kill me, but it won't work!"

Gwen blinked as they both clambered onto their chairs in a screaming fit. Nurse Nyakio and Stephanie poked their heads in the doorway and frowned. "Oh, great," Nurse Nyakio muttered.

"I want my happy place," Leila whispered over and over to herself.

Percy closed his eyes and went straight back to the kitchen, and then he was pushing the cookies down his throat, and they melted like velvet.

-line break-

Hazel and Frank weren't the only ones who brought him the gift of a laptop. Reyna showed up in a sweeping purple cloak, three-inch combat boots, and a golden headband shaped like a wreath that probably would've been gaudy on _anyone_ else. The guards scuttled before her when she demanded a tour.

Percy was fished from his meeting, but he quickly shouldered her away from the entrance before Octavian could see anything and volunteered to give the tour instead of the nerve-wracked Mr. Janus. Nurse Rosa joined them at that point to correct Percy on a ton of things, and though Reyna seemed mostly unimpressed, she still thanked the cafeteria ladies for their mug of Mexican horchata and even gave Nurse Rosa a smile.

They got ushered back to the meeting room, and Nurse Rosa trustingly shooed the guard outside so they and a young college (or maybe older) dropout's parents could have the room to themselves.

Reyna took a sip of her cinnamon rice drink and grimaced. "Did they use soy milk in here?"

Percy suppressed a grin. He didn't want to admit that all dessert-related things were banned for him after it was discovered that he took 4 extra helpings each day (but really, Khione, Octavian, Leila, and Pollux didn't actually eat theirs), so he nodded knowingly. "Someone in my group thinks the kitchen got a discount with Whole Foods."

"I mean, almond milk would make more sense." She took another sip and set down the mug. "So, tell me the truth. How is it?"

She wouldn't stop until he admitted every last detail of his day-to-day life, including Drew's antics and his insomnia, but she didn't react as badly as he expected. She simply told him to solve his own problems for himself and that he had dealt fairly well with Drew.

And then Reyna described the room she was currently sharing with a very broke Columbia graduate student, and how irritating working from afar was. "The acoustics don't really carry when you're having an online meeting," she complained, and Percy hoped he didn't look guilty as he imagined Reyna yelling at her team in-person. They didn't talk about why she was still staying in New York.

"I have something to tell you. Look at me, please." Her voice turned stern.

Percy glanced up from rubbing warmth into a hole in his jeans. "Yeah?" he asked nervously.

"You're done detoxing. You're on the emotional side now. That shouldn't be the hard part." Her gaze bore into him. "Because I know you're strong, and you can overcome your own will."

Reyna being tough, expecting too much of him, it was all so familiar it ached. Maybe in a few different ways.

"Percy. Pick yourself up."

"Maybe the emotional part is the hard part." He was surprised to hear his voice. "And I'm trying to learn how to deal with it when my own will cannot control my addiction. I've decided to open up, and it does hurt more. I have to face that I'm broken. And there's a lot more to deal with about how my mind can hurt me and the people around me, but I choose this. I will agree that I need to pick myself up."

Reyna started at him for unendurably long moments. "Okay. Okay."

"Yeah?" he said, automatically reverting back to waiting for her approval.

"I have told you that I'm proud of you, right?"

The words still sounded foreign.

"I'm sorry I keep pushing you in a different way. I learned that from Lupa, and I doubt I could ever learn to be that kind of brave," she said, letting her voice fade to a whisper. "But I mean it. I'm proud of you."

Percy felt something turn over inside him. "I'm, uh, proud of you, too. For listening to all of that."

She grinned softly. "I try."

Apparently, a weird phenomenon had happened while he was inside. Piper had personally reached out to Reyna, and now they were good acquaintances. That explained the occasional Piper catchphrases, like "wicked" or "complete moron," Reyna had been blurting out and the wedding invitation embossed with olive leaves that arrived weeks ago at Sunny Mountain. "Jason liked it," Reyna explained. "Did you notice the smell of lilies? That's one of the flowers of Venus."

Sometime after his eyes gazed over and Reyna started chatting about all the Los Angeles hangouts they wanted to visit together, the gift of her Macbook Pro was lifted out. "I made sure to get special permission for this, from the help hotline on the website," she informed him. "Piper's probably still in bed at the moment, but they asked to see you."

She waited for him, in case he wanted to refuse, and pulled out a pair of headphones at his smile. She didn't want to bother with sharing earbuds, so she spun the laptop to him and sat back. "I'm fine," she insisted, and in the next moment she was churning out emails on her phone.

The FaceTime connection clicked on the other side. Glorious, early morning sunlight was pouring through Jason's spacious, wooden-beamed loft, and he hurried across a fuzzy Superman carpet to jump into his straight-backed swivel chair.

"Percy!" His eyes twinkled behind his wire-framed glasses. "It is so, so good to see you."

A moment later, someone yelled in the background, "You've started without me?" Piper hopped into the room, trying to tug a boot off and holding a green smoothie aloft. "Sorry, I just got here. The traffic by Beverly Hills is horrible at sunrise." She narrowed her eyes mockingly at Jason and yanked a pillow from his bed to sit on.

Jason was eyeing Percy's surroundings ravenously. "How is it, Percy? Are you alright?"

Both pairs of blue eyes—Piper's were turning turquoise because of her borrowed Stanford hoodie were trained on him intently, and he felt some truth leave him in a gasp. He kept his voice low because at the moment he wanted it personally between them. "I still feel it. It gets worse, around other people who—who also have an addiction. I didn't know I was counting the days, but I am. And we talk about so much, and it makes me think about stuff more. Other people more."

Piper's shoulders sloped down. "I'm sorry, man."

Jason looked like he wanted to reach out and hold him. "If you ever want to leave, you know you can."

Percy shook his head. "I mean, it's good for me. There's a lot I get to process." Since both of them seemed to know anyway, he mouthed, "Annabeth."

A smile quirked at the corner of Piper's lips. "That's really nice to hear. I mean the processing part."

Jason elbowed her ribs and shared easy grins with her. "Sure, Pipes."

It was adorable watching them, but it was also mildly painful. It took multiple seconds for them to drag their eyes from each other. Jason spotted something across his back, and he straightened in the posture-adjusting chair of his. "Hey, I need to talk to you about something, Percy."

"Though I would like to hear about your food," Piper shared with a grin. Hazel and Frank must've told her.

"What is it?"

Jason cleared his throat. "Yeah, about being my best man, it's not a big deal. It's just a title I want to give you because you're really important to me."

"And not because he pities you," Piper said curtly. "Leo can't exactly host a bachelor's party, can he?"

Jason flushed and turned to her with a frustrated expression. "Pipes! That's absolutely not the reason!" He swung back to Percy. "Also, I'm not asking for a bachelor's party. We don't have any expectations, it's just a title."

Piper nodded. "It's not likely that my dad is walking me down the aisle in a white dress while Jace's parents sob their eyes out in the front row. And my mom would lose her mind if we had a ceremony, so, I don't know. Maybe the minister will take two minutes and we'll sit down to a table full of Calypso's food. How does that sound, Jason?"

He intertwined their fingers. "As long as it's with you, Pipes."

Percy looked away, and Reyna raised her eyebrows at him. He was going to make the universal sign for PDA- gagging, even though he wasn't particularly grossed out by it, just melancholy, but her phone buzzed in her hand and she returned back to an important text.

"But seriously, I mean it. You don't have to dress up and have impeccable manners or something."

Piper sighed. "Only Jason would say impeccable." Percy raised a finger, but she interrupted him. "Alright, maybe not, but I'm getting into training for the camping with kids thing, and we've been learning how to explain things. The slogan is 'don't talk down, down the talk.' My vocabulary is going to totally suck at the end of this."

"What are you guys even doing?"

Jason leaned back so Piper could go on. "I'm learning a lot of the Dakota people's traditions, but they do want me to tell Cherokee tales around the campfire, so me and the other guide are going through a lot of collections and travelers' journals." She grimaced. "Those are terribly racist. Oh, and they're teaching us to forage, so I brewed some tea last week with wild leaves. That somebody refused to try."

Jason looked a little guilty. "Sorry, Pipes, but before the colonizers came all the foliage around here wasn't sprayed with pesticides. At least you're going to the woods."

"It was really great tea, by the way," she told Percy. "Ladrillo liked it a lot."

"Who?"

"Oh, our dog." Jason grinned. "He's a cocker Spaniel and lives with Piper, because she saw him in a parking lot a few years ago, but I see him a lot too." He eyed Piper. "You know, I don't think Ladrillo should be drinking tea."

"It's literally water boiled with leaves!"

"You put sugar in it."

Piper shoved him gently.

"Yeah, that doesn't sound like the best idea," Percy cut in.

Piper harrumphed indignantly. Reyna's hand suddenly appeared on the edge of the screen, and she tilted it slightly. She waved silently and pointed to Percy.

"She probably wants you," Jason deciphered, and Piper made a face behind his shoulder. Reyna raised an eyebrow for Percy to explain, but he decided to just shrug.

"Yeah, I think so," he told them. "I guess I'll cut this short?"

"We'll see you in a few months then." Piper grinned disarmingly at him.

"Hold on, man. I can't wait until we're together again." Piper made another face that Jason spotted, and he turned around to ask, "What?"

Percy laughed. "I'm also holding my breath. Good luck with your job, Piper."

"Thanks. I mean, if it doesn't work out, I can always go back to surfing, and I know you could definitely use some help." She grinned cheekily.

"What—" He was about to tell her about the time he was out by Coney Island and someone asked for permission to include a clip of him in a "best surfing of all time" documentary, but Reyna mercilessly disconnected his headphones from the audio, told them goodbye, and cut off the video. Her Mexican horchata was completely finished, and Percy realized he had never seen her or Nico waste any food.

"Piper texted me," Reyna told him, holding up her phone. "She's hoping you can help with a surprise bachelor's party? Leo wants to plan the whole thing, but she wants you in on the loop, and there might be some details here and there…"

"Yeah. Is there trivia?"

Reyna's eyes lighted. "That's the big event."

Percy grinned. "Well, I've got a few things in mind for it."

She opened a new page of notes on her phone. "Let's hear them, then."

-line break-

Maybe his breakthrough with Reyna and finally telling someone honestly the things that lurked on the dark end of his days should've been euphoric. But it wasn't. Reyna left in a sleek rented hybrid, and he dreamed of his mother's second wedding.

Whispering followed him along the hallways. He was toting the train of his mom's beautiful thrift store dress, and then their ring on a cushion. The kiss seemed to have been lapsed from the ceremony, and every glass Gabe clinked with shattered. His mom was feeding Percy a slice of cake, and the cream-ensconced piece in the middle was blue.

The next morning, or maybe a day after—he'd been awake so long he wasn't sure anymore; and he didn't feel tired at that moment. The curtains had been left carelessly half-open by Pollux, and the low glare of highway streetlights traced a few dim shapes on the floor.

The moon was probably still up, and the frantic scratching of a nocturnal crystal meth addict echoed through the walls. Percy was cold, but he couldn't breathe beneath his blanket, so he struggled to fold his legs up further and tighten the blanket over his chin.

_I want to leave, _he thought clearly. _I need to get out._

His fingers tingled irrepressibly. He felt a familiar, sweetly beautiful taste touch and then sour inside his mouth.

_It's been 29 days. The Earth has spun so many times, and nothing has changed. _

_Will I be healed?_

Percy placed a hand on the wall. It was cold to the touch, and he imagined plaster, cement, bricks, stretching on for yards. The ice-brushed fence, and never-ending highway he couldn't find the way off of.

He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. He placed his cheek against the wall. It felt unmovable, and the insistent scratching filled his hearing.

_This is all there is, _he realized. _I can't get another dose of happiness._

It was a stupidly obvious realization, but it settled inside him like a layer of cement until it felt like he couldn't move his cheek away.

_ I can't. I can't. I can't anymore._

Eventually, the nurses knocked on the door, and the curtain was drawn completely to expose the narrow, biting winter morning. Octavian gave a rousing shout of "Salve, populi Romani!" which was apparently Latin for 'morning, Roman people' and busied himself with digging out his clothes as he hummed something. Pollux disappeared for the bathroom, and eventually Butch went over to Percy.

"Hey, what's up?" He murmured as he wrangled his muscular arms into a baggy sweatshirt.

Percy yawned and resisted curling up. "I'm alright," he said, straightening his head. "I'll just catch another wink of sleep and be outside soon."

Butch nodded, and then he paused. "Are you sure?"

_No, not at all. _"Yeah, I'm just kind of tired." He sat up. "And I guess it kind of just hit me that while I'm here I just can't…" he trailed off, but Butch seemed to understand.

"Do it anymore," he filled in. "Like you've been cut off."

Octavian straightened with an SPQR shirt, and they quieted as he ambled into the center of the room to change. Percy averted his eyes and ran for the door, but Butch easily caught up to him outside.

"It's okay. You'll-you'll get over it eventually."

Percy decided to speak his mind one last time. "Is it sad when that happens?"

Butch shared with him a smile that said he thought of his addiction as a relationship too. "Yeah, it is."

Percy headed off to the bathroom in his pj's. _I can't. I can't. The Earth will revolve again, and I still can't._

-line break-

It wasn't always so depressing. When he didn't have to think about it, it was alright. When they went around in his group recounting memories. While Coach Hedge remarked that he was getting a lot faster and stronger ("Just not enough for my baseball bat") and they discovered he had a beautiful wife and a baby(!) And even when a nurse told him a letter had arrived for him in the office, from Annabeth, which he refused to read and Gwen said that was okay, it wasn't a happy moment but it was better to think about.

And then, of course, when a certain couple called "Valdez" asked for permission to see him. Calypso arranged the meeting and all the details, but Leo was the one who wanted to talk to him.

"Bro, you're giving me a hug, okay?" was the first thing Percy heard as he opened the door of the guest room, and then he was elbowed in a big group hug. He flinched back into the doorway, and Nurse Rebekah (Nurse Citlali had the flu) was clearly struggling between intervening or letting them be, but Leo opened his arms expectantly again, and Percy decided to step forward.

"Sorry," he murmured, his elbows instinctively jutting out and grazing against Calypso's stomach, but Leo just patted his back understandingly. He stood back to look over him.

"Dude, you have muscles now!"

Percy glanced down and saw a raggedly, bleach-stained hoodie swamping him. He opened his hands and replied, "Really?" but Calypso nodded seriously.

"You look healthier now. I'm glad you detoxed properly."

"No, what I had…at your house, that was great too."

She modestly shook her head no and pulled out a seat for him. "Come on, the nurses and guards hardly told me anything."

He thought he would be tired of recounting everything so many times, but it wasn't. He hardly considered whatever he was saying and just watched the reactions splay across his friends' faces, and he tried to memorize them again before they started to blur around the edges. Leo was in a smokey work shirt, and his fingers constantly disappeared into his well-worn toolbelt, pulling out bolts and screwdrivers like toys and fiddling with them beneath the table. He seemed like chili powder, and there was a smear of taco sauce on his sleeve. He had draped his heavy cloak on the back of his chair like he was too warm to need it.

Calypso glowed and poured into a room like sunshine. Her braid was loosely held up on the back of her head, and caramel-colored strands were already growing too heavy and slipping through the flimsy bobby pins, and her skin smelled like chocolate. She was wearing a flowing tunic and slightly baggy khakis, a slapdash beyond-caring-about-fashion ensemble that looked so comfortable on her. Her voice seemed to be more melodic than he remembered.

So of course he began wondering. What would it be like, seeing Annabeth again? He continued to blab on about the group sessions at Calypso's insistence, but his mind frolicked off. What if it wasn't all so aesthetically arranged, picture-perfect like the rest of them? What if he never saw her again? Why did imagining her to be as poised and impenetrable and flawless like she was the day he first met her feel so illusionary?

They were both staring at him impatiently. "Yeah?"

"How long are you planning to stay?" Calypso asked slowly.

He bit his lip. "Until sometime in March. I should be able to make it to Jason and Piper's wedding."

Leo let out a happy gasp. "So Frank was right! Sorry, you can never be sure."

"Of course he was telling the truth," Calypso responded with a groan. "Do you think that'll be good enough?"

"Yeah, well, recovery doesn't really end," he said, quoting what was basically Sunny Mountain's motto. "It's not definitive, but there are some things I should figure out for myself."

"Yeah, and then there's Annabeth," Leo suggested. He smirked slightly. "How was meeting her?"

His smile felt stale. "I haven't yet. It's kind of because, well, we're working something else out."

"What, have you been fighting about something?" Leo still seemed slightly amused.

"No, it's not that. We're fine." _I hope._

Calypso nodded kindly. "Then we won't interfere," she said, aiming a look at Leo.

"Fine. I need your help with the secret bachelor party."

Percy leaned in, but Leo cast a furtive look at Calypso. "I can't tell you anything," he hissed, "unless it's just us."

Calypso rolled her eyes. "Really. I'll leave, but if you don't hurry up I'm going first."

Leo really had thought of anything, and the main thing was that he needed other team captains or someone to handle the rules while Leo surprised Jason with something else. "And I actually I have a shopping list for you too…we pooled up funds for the wedding so that'll cover it—"

"Cover what?"

"Well, I need a can of spray cheese, and apparently the best-rated kind is only sold at this grocery store called Friedman's, or something, and it's close by to your place…"

Percy chuckled. And then he chuckled some more. He had high, high suspicions that the Stolls were involved in leaving great reviews. "Freidman's," he corrected. "I'm sure Grover can get it for you sooner."

"Oh, okay. Then that's the most important—except for the snacks I asked Harvey to make. Can you help him get all the ingredients he needs?"

Percy blinked and felt his back stiffen. He wondered what it would be like seeing Harvey again.

"Percy? Is there a problem?"

"No, no, it's good. I'll do it when I get back."

"Yup," Leo answered, exposing his bright white teeth in a wide smile. "Since he will have to make the snacks right beforehand."

Percy hesitated as his mind raced with memories of Harvey cooking in their kitchen. He blew out a breath. "Hey, there's something I need you to help me with."

-line break-

The cold numbed Percy's blood flow. He strained to lift his torso onto the tent of his knees.

Coach Hedge was yelling, "Go! Go! Go!" He had tired of all their whining and quoted from his wife that endorphins were "second cousins to morphine." Percy collapsed back onto the dead grass, chips of frozen dew melting into his once-warm hoodie, and decided he may have been immune to any powers of endorphins.

Butch was rhythmically doing his crunches, almost releasing steam into the icy air. Khione had giddily disappeared somewhere among the frost. Someone from another group who carried a case of tools everyone and smelled a little like car oil was complaining about the humanity of making them do recreation outdoors when it was twenty-something degrees out. Coach Hedge waved his baseball bat and snapped, "Would you like to go inside the movie room instead? Twenty laps!"

Pollux glanced over at Percy, still sprawled on his back. Sighing, Percy pushed himself up by his elbows. "I don't need abs," he muttered to himself. "Fifty is good enough."

"Fifty?" one of the eavesdropping the heroin addicts shrieked. "How did you get to fifty?"

Coach Hedge wandered over. "Actually, yeah, cupcake, why don't you demonstrate that for us?"

He glanced around nervously. The sprinklers suddenly started, smacking the layer of frost with soft plinks. Half of them clambered to their feet and shrieked, Octavian loudly proclaiming something about the will of…Neptune as he followed them. Leila had already raced inside the doorway and studiously blocked another group of people trying to cross to the other side.

"Recreation is over!" a girl with thick glasses and gunmetal-colored eyes announced officiously. "I have Scrabble to get to."

Coach Hedge scowled at Percy. "This is your one get-out-of-jail-free pass, cupcake. What idiot is keeping the waterworks on?"

Percy propped himself up and found himself purposely passing through the sprays of groundwater, gaining an unfamiliar childish thrill from the damp spots growing on his pants. Nurse Esmerelda scowled at the dripping puddles around his feet as she pushed a medicine cart over.

"Guys, don't catch hypothermia." She narrowed her eyes at Coach Hedge as he ambled in, swinging his baseball bat.

Percy abandoned the incoming argument to chase his group to the movie room. He clearly had only left one for another, and the argument for horror was erupting loudly. Pollux, shockingly, murmured something to Butch.

"—phone available?"

Butch scratched his buzz cut. "I don't know. I think it was every Thursday?"

"Wednesday," Pollux seemed to realize. "Thanks."

"What?" Butch asked lightly.

"My parents want to call every month," he said faintly. "To check up on me."

Percy learned only a little back about his background, but Pollux's family wasn't very well-to-do and he was currently their only child. He didn't make it sound like they cared about him terribly much.

Butch nodded. "That's nice of them." He had no family to speak of, like the rest of them.

Pollux shrugged, and Percy cleared his throat slightly. Pollux's fine blond hairs seemed to stand up straight in alarm.

"How many phones are there?" he tried to ask casually.

"Three. Head there right after lunch," Butch told him. "And the call time is now extended to twenty minutes."

He frowned. "Seriously? It used to be shorter?"

"There's a phone bill to pay," Butch answered with a shrug.

Unfortunately for their group, another one had gotten there first and they were watching a gory action scene from Fast and Furious. "Curses!" Octavian snapped and proceeded to rain down more.

He and Khione hunched sulkily in the back, complaining about made-up plot holes and the lack of any snacks, and Leila decided to go back to her room. Pollux and Percy stood up synchronously at her word, and then Khione started complaining about her vision being blocked, so they hurried outside.

He knew Pollux would leave him alone to read a book or nap in his bunk, and Percy was planning on catching up on the last few days for his gratitude journal. Anything but curling up with his panda and thinking about Annabeth's letter in the front office.

"Oh, really," Nurse Mackenzie muttered as they opened the door. Her afro squashed beneath the rim of Octavian's bunk as she straightened. "Just performing the routine inspections. Give me a sec, y'all."

Percy didn't seem to remember the inspections being routine. She picked up Butch's pillow, patted down Pollux's blanket, and as they shuddered, ran a finger under Octavian's mattress. "Not bad. A couple of you haven't been washing your blankets though," she said, giving Percy a look.

He mustered a smile. "The clothesline was too crowded?"

She snorted and flapped a hand. "You're killing me," she said dryly. "Wash your blankets when you're supposed to, 'kay?"

"Okay," he answered politely.

Pollux dipped his head and climbed onto his bed. Nurse Mackenzie paused in the doorway. "Oh, guys, someone'll be around tomorrow to check up on your health. Hide the beer," she teased in a singsong.

Percy caught Pollux's face crumpling before he swung around to face the wall. Nurse Mackenzie cleared her throat in confusion. "Well, that's all."

Percy stared at her clipboard, forgetting his manners to say goodbye. She was halfway out the door when he turned outside. "Hey," he began.

Nurse Mackenzie stared at him in surprise. "Hi. Uh, if I upset your roommate—"

"I think it's fine. I don't know." Percy looked away. "I can ask him about it later," he said, mostly meaning it. "I wanted to ask, can I get some sleeping pills?"

Nurse Mackenzie studied him. "Is that on your taboo list?"

"No." He forced the words from his throat. "I'm a heroin addict."

Her eyes danced to his sleeves, but she didn't ask to see. "I'll ask Windley. What's your name?"

"Perseus Jackson."

She arched a dark eyebrow. "Oh my goodness, are you the one whose been receiving all those visits?"

He was a little surprised, but he probably shouldn't have been because Sunny Mountain was a small, gossipy rehab. "Probably?"

Nurse Mackenzie belly-laughed. "You're a hoot, Perseus." She wiggled her fingers and disappeared around the corner.

After dinner, Percy followed Pollux into a small room by Mr. Janus' office to make their calls. They were late because he had to spend time rummaging around his stuff for the list of numbers Hazel handed him, but at least Pollux didn't look terribly eager to call his parents as they slipped into different lines.

Finally, the same guy from earlier who complained about the exercise they had to do for recreation stepped away from his phone, looking nostalgic for his girlfriend. Percy's fingers shook to the beat of his clinking tools as he picked a number. Before he pressed dial, though, his courage ran out and he deleted the number.

The people behind and around him glared as he picked off digit by digit, as the buttons were sticky and clacked loudly when released. Somehow Pollux, with only one hand, was already listening to the dial tone. He wildly searched the list and picked Reyna.

He told her about the sleeping pills and she about all the schlubs making messes around her company. Percy pretended to know what that meant. He reported some of Drew's new antics (it involved a haunted Nurse Cillian and a bloodthirsty Nurse Jalilah) and Reyna chuckled into his ear.

"That reminds me," she murmured. "I saw Annabeth a few days ago. How…is it…with you two?"

Percy bit his lip fitfully. Someone seemed to be gesturing for him to hurry up. "What did you guys do?" he tried to stall.

"We went to MoMA to see the new exhibit of battle weapons. Percy, what happened?"

He almost didn't recognize the nervous laughter he was emitting. He tried to come up with something convincing, but it was impossible to lie to Reyna. No one ever tried in his memory. "We're working on it," he finally said.

"Sure." Her disbelief was palpable but thankfully, she didn't press further. The silence seemed to thicken into a wall between them.

"What's that noise?" he decided to ask.

"Oh. I'm eating licorice from Sweet on America. Sorry." There was the sound of a bag being dropped.

Something ragged was getting caught up in Percy's chest. He stood there for multiple moments while Reyna talked about something or other.

"Uh, okay," he finally said.

"It's twenty minutes!" someone hissed from behind him.

Percy sighed. "Sorry, Reyna, I have to go."

"Oh. Okay, I see. This was nice."

He nodded, and then remembered to say it aloud.

Reyna laughed. "You could at least make it sound like you mean it. Bye?"

"Sorry. Bye."

The phone was disgruntledly yanked up once he set it down, and Percy shuffled out of the room. Pollux had already disappeared because his conversation clearly did not take that long.

He felt like a horrible coward. He went back to his bed, even though there was a big mah-jongg event, and thought about Annabeth's letter.

-line break-

Eventually, Percy built up the courage to call Harvey. Well, he dialed Chris, exchanged pleasantries, and then asked for Harvey. His voice was soft and sleepy and a little deeper than Percy thought he remembered. In the background, there was the sound of dishes being washed.

Twenty minutes was too short for Percy to go too deep into his life, so he pressed Harvey for details about what was happening with him. It was a little duller in the apartment without Chris around to binge soap operas with, but the Valdezes kept him busy. They loved having him over, and he even had his own set of Teenage Ninja Mutant Turtle pj's at their place. Percy grimaced, but at least it was something within Harvey's age range, so he didn't make a comment. Calypso was teaching him all sorts of home cooking recipes, and he admitted he could make a pretty good tater tot casserole which he promised to let Percy try. Every few days, he would head over to help Calypso with baking as she cleaned up and served customers, and whenever there was an influx of cars or some issue Leo's assistants couldn't deal with, Harvey strapped into a jumpsuit and got to work in the garage.

It sounded great. He was still stuck with making drinks for his roommates and being at their beck and call whenever they drank too much. And Leo and Calypso were clearly still worried about him.

"Harvey," Percy whispered when he paused. "I know Leo's talked to you about something."

"Yeah?" Harvey asked innocently. Percy knew he was deadpanning, and only the slightest tremor in his voice gave it away.

"What did you think about adoption?" Percy asked slowly. To his horror, his tear ducts were prickling.

Harvey was silent for a while. "I don't know," he answered. But he wasn't putting up a good act.

"If you don't want it," Percy said firmly, "we won't force you. We'll keep any truant officers or social workers away from you."

He let out a soft gasp like he was swallowing a cry. Percy was told of an incident when Harvey went shopping with Calypso, and she didn't realize she was talking to a social worker. Which she never had to hide from before. She told them she wasn't related to Harvey and was about to name his brother while Harvey tugged her away. Percy forgot about that at the moment.

"No, I mean it. We're all watching out for you."

Harvey continued with the long pauses. "Am I really missing out on something?" he asked distantly like that wasn't the real problem.

Which it wasn't, of course. He had parent figures in his life he was familiar with, he got to stay close to his only family, and he was safe. He had heard plenty of horror stories from Percy and Leo, which Percy was beginning to regret at this point, but there were many instances like that. He shook himself off and tried to cobble together a whole answer. "You'll get to meet people your age. And there's so much more you can learn." He felt a fact he learned from Annabeth bobbing up. "Our brains' capacities to learn are best before we become adults. And I know you're brilliant."

"Thank you," Harvey muttered, but that wasn't good enough. They didn't have any leeway in the adoption/fostering process, and they wouldn't be able to protect him from anything. The same fear that griped Percy every time they ran away from sirens while he was young lingered inside his stomach.

"Sorry," he tried to say, but it came out as a blurred mumble.

Harvey sighed lightly. The sound of running water and clinking dishes quieted. "Can I—can we try? Can we learn more about it?"

Percy felt his heart skip a beat. "What?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Are you sure?"

The dishes were clattering again. He was probably putting them up to dry. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Percy leaned against the wall. He didn't want to be an adult at the moment. He didn't know if he had the courage to go in there. But he couldn't just let Calypso do it for him. He gave an almost-happy laugh. "Okay. I'll try my best."

"Thank you," Harvey repeated. There was finally utter silence on the other end, except for a distant television. "I hope you're okay there."

"Yeah. Yeah, I am," he rushed to assure Harvey.

He slowly hung up when they all (including Chris) exchanged goodbyes. The person behind him looked half-asleep as she lumbered forward to grab the phone.

He could still hear Harvey's whispering voice echoing in his mind.

-line break-

Percy had forgotten to take his sleeping pills. Nurse Florence was pretty nice about them, but they didn't get access to any medicine for any longer than a monitored period of time. (Also, even though he only got Tylenol, it was somewhat problematic for Butch.) Percy was rushing to fill up his gratitude journal before his meeting with Drew, and she was chatting with everyone else, and she rolled her chart away after a few minutes.

He really couldn't blame her for not checking. No one expected someone to request something and then forget about it. But he did, and at two or three am he finally couldn't stand it and wandered outside the room.

Sleeping properly every night was too easy to get used to. He wasn't supposed to be that sensitive to insomnia. Minimal activity stirred from behind a few other doors, and apparently, a truth or dare party was happening in the girls' hallway. He decided to step away.

Sunny Mountain was almost haunted at night. They had cheap blue lights every few feet to accommodate withdrawal symptoms like small bladders or sleepwalking, and everything looked ghastly in the lighting. The tiles in the bathroom glowed, and it smelled freshly of antiseptic like someone new had just thrown up in it.

In the dining hall, the chairs were all shoved neatly under the tables, and a few extra plates were still sitting on the kitchen's window ledge. From the crack in the doors, he spotted aprons and hairnets hung up inside the kitchen. It wasn't something he ever bothered to notice before. Percy continued padding on in his slippers.

The counseling offices were in the left corner. The names were arranged in a crooked row, and one of them smelled heavily like vanilla candles. A nick in Dr. Park's door was shrouded with shadow, and streetlights' glow seeped out from Drew's office. A photo of her in not much more than lingerie was taped onto her door, which was definitely going to arouse Mr. Janus' attention at some point.

Their group's room was the first down the other hallway. Since he'd last been there, Gwen had strewn up their fantasy and "happy place" drawings along with the windows, and the stark crayon lines were backlit by more streetlights. Khione's caricature of Butch, with rainbows all over him, was still on the prop-up whiteboard. Percy stared at the blue-traced chairs for a moment before he could force himself to move on.

There was the meeting room, all those chairs he had sat in, a little mysterious stone that sat on the windowsill since Hazel and Frank had left, and a tiny smudge on the ground where the guard always stood. There was the plush-carpeted movie room, with the grainy projection "blanket" (as Leila so aptly named it) and a smattering of popcorn in the corner. In the game room, a really stunning Lego sculpture had been left up, and someone was probably only a few moves from winning on the chessboard. The names of all the board games were too difficult to make out in the lighting. And then there was the assembly hall, which took up most of the right hallway, the chairs still haphazardly arranged from everyone heading to bed on New Year's Eve, and a light-rimmed podium in the center.

Percy found himself returning back to the movie room. He sat in the front, which was a spot Khione usually bagged for herself if they got there in time, and drew his blanket tighter over his knees.

The darkness was teasing his stamina, convincing himself that he was tired, but he couldn't actually sleep. Percy checked the DVD player and saw that Forrest Gump was in there, so he let it play from the middle.

The colors and shapes of the movie turned into blurs. The taste of licorice was flooding his mouth. Blue M&Ms. Gummy sharks. Navy jawbreakers. Spearmint gum.

The sugary denseness all faded to let his mom's voice breakthrough. "Pace yourself. I'm not getting you a new set of teeth," she teased once.

Harvey's adoption and Annabeth's letter and Reyna's job and all his other problems with Annabeth swirled around him. He kept imagining his mom telling him to pace himself, except that had nothing to do with anything.

His chest was beginning to hurt like he couldn't breathe.

He went back to his bed because was getting too cold.

-line break-

A lot of time passed until the next memorable, and most likely weirdest, moment passed. They were in the game room, and the other guys were playing The Game of Life. Drew came in right around the moment when Percy was about to pick his board game family, so he immediately ditched them to run for the corner.

As he expected, she eagerly asked to play with them.

In the corner, there were a few seats arranged in front of an ancient, probably 2 feet across and 5 feet wide TV. A few people complained that the game room was ruined by it and was too similar to the movie room, but they were quickly shushed by the avid team of TV show-followers. There was no channel surfing, only a specific show some people would eyeball their watches all day for. The latest episode from Cartoon Network ended, and Khione had intimidated the remote from them. Leila listlessly kept her eyes trained on the TV as Khione flicked to one of those rerun channels.

"Ugh, Breaking Bad," one person muttered and dragged her roommate away to play Uno with.

Khione was about to press the next number, but Leila suddenly reached for the remote. "I want to watch."

Khione rolled her eyes as she held it from her grasp. "Isn't it about science or something?"

Still, she didn't press the button. A washed-out blond prostitute crossed the dirty parking lot of a cheap apartment complex. She was pegged to be a meth addict by someone else on the screen and flashed her yellowed teeth into a car window. Leila started full-out gasping—the kind of laughter proper parents told their proper children to never do in public.

"What's wrong?" a distant alcoholic asked in alarm.

Leila pointed at Khione. "That's you!" Leila shrieked. Percy bit his lip to hold in his silent laughter.

Khione immediately changed the channel to Animal Kingdom. It was featuring the Arctic, and Leila almost fell off her chair. If they were in public, they would've probably been left alone by now, but everyone else just seemed mildly irritated.

Leila still cackled. "It's all you!" she wheezed.

Khione's glacier-colored eyes flashed, and suddenly she fished an icicle from under her shirt and slammed it into the arm of Leila's chair. She jumped.

Leila stared at her with wide-eyed horror, and Percy stopped wondering about how cold the surface of Khione's skin must've been to hope Leila wouldn't react badly, but after a moment her expression rippled with calm and she snorted. "Ha! You have a sharp piece of ice!"

Khione yanked it out and leveled the sharp point at them all. "I know about the conspiracy to kill me. It's never happening, b*tches."

Drew's head snapped up like she had a natural detector for that word, and only then noticed the stalemate situation. Leila looked completely unfazed. Scowling disappointedly, Drew stalked over, told Khione to take a chill pill, and headed outside to look for a nurse.

Percy couldn't help the peals of gasping laughter that escaped him.

-line break-

March rolled around abruptly. The recreation plot of dirt was partially defrosting. The Valentines' Day decorations were finally getting dragged down, which consisted of some flimsy hearts and cardboard Cupids, which Octavian had a field day with.

Having his love life get predicted by Octavian and then his breakfast frittata snatched away for a sacrifice in order to thank Cupid for that prediction was definitely something he would remember for a while.

The bored nurses then started thinking about St. Patrick Day's decorations. Percy expected to get roped into making some of those, wash all his things for the last time, and then leave before the actual holiday. Annabeth was supposed to pick him up, according to a call from Hazel.

It turned the ocean inside him into a storm each time he thought about it.

One thing he did not expect was waking up to a flood of stuffing. Octavian was sitting on the floor, his eyes alight as a knife disappeared under the black skin of Percy's panda pet.

He couldn't help himself from shrieking. Butch woke up and started yelling at Octavian, who finally let go of the panda pet and raced outside, but Percy still heard himself shrieking. Nurse Cillian was called over at some point to sew up the panda, but he shook his head at the mess of shredded cloth, and Percy was still hoarsely screaming.

It was painful to remember, physically and mentally. He let it die down when he was beginning to lose his voice, and track of what was driving him crazy. Gwen insisted on talking to him alone about it, and by some Sunny Mountain magic, he was alright again.

"Think of it as your last hurrah," she joked. "And Octavian needed some sense knocked into him. This wasn't the only time."

He felt like they only skimmed the surface of the real issues plaguing him, but it was unbelievably nice to get listened to.

Nurse Cillian even produced a "fixed" panda for him, with some cloth cut from one of Nurse Jalilah's scarfs, and it was rather deformed and smelled like Nurse Jalilah's shampoo—which was much too personal for him—but he thanked them anyway. Octavian also became quieter around him.

As he predicted, he had to cut up and color shamrocks, and then he made sure to say goodbye to everyone. Dr. Windley reminded him to exercise regularly, he thanked the cafeteria chefs for their great desserts, and the nurses insisted on too many hugs. The group wrote him goodbye notes under the command of Gwen, and even though Khione's sounded like a veiled threat, he held them close and sincerely said he enjoyed them. Butch even got them to agree to watch Finding Nemo on their last movie night.

Nurse Rosa came to help him with packing on the last morning. Drew had given him a second notebook and one of her signature furry ball-mounted pens that took longer to break. And he had graciously evaded her last few pick-up lines and thanked her for telling him about writing gratitude journals because Nurse Jalilah insisted. It was a perfectly normal day, except once he cleaned his plate of roasted vegetables, couscous, and herby chicken (and tucked Butch's chocolate granola bar away) his entire group got up and followed him to the new lobby. The nurses he knew stopped him every few moments, and the secretary came outside to hand over Annabeth's letter. The lobby's lights and glass tiles reflected them multiple times over, and Percy realized he was probably seeing them for the last time.

"Goodbye, guys," he said softly.

Pollux stared at the ground, Leila chirped, "And a great bye to you, too," and Butch lightly touched his shoulder. Octavian said he could foresee no wars in Percy's future, and Khione begrudgingly admitted Percy was okay for not trying to kill her.

It was better than anything he'd expected.

Nurse Rosa led him out, and there was Annabeth and her Toyota, starkly framed by the dwindling sunset. He paused in the doorway, and Nurse Rosa puffed out an impatient sigh but turned to stare outside with an enrapt expression. He unfolded the flap of his envelope and saw the silhouette of Annabeth lift her chin.

Her handwriting was the same pretty, typewriter-neat longhand, but it trembled with faint jagged edges, and translucent layers of erased words peeped out at him. He struggled to make out the words, but h*ll if he was going to ask Nurse Rosa to read it.

"Hello, Percy. You haven't ruined a single moment of my life. I've made so many mistakes with you and myself. My actions are separate from yours, and things play out in ways no one has control over. Let me make up the wrongs I've done by not blaming yourself, please. If this isn't just because of Thalia, I'll respect your space. Just remember I'm still here for you. Love, Annabeth."

The world was spinning around him. Percy staggered a little, everything else passing out of his mind. Was that an answer to his text? What did she mean by that? What—

Nurse Rosa sighed and forcefully gestured forward. He crossed the grass-less lawn, where the guards politely nodded at him, past the lawn chairs, and paused at the chain-link fence. His breath hitched as so many of his fantasies finally ended at the concrete driveway.

Annabeth's features were sharply highlighted by the streetlights in an unreadable expression that made his stomach swirl, and her hair burned copper under the dwindling sunset. Owl earrings he'd never seen before winked from the nook between her neck and curtain of hair. She was wearing a gray sweater dress that affectionately sloped over her hips, and she looked so, so good.

Nurse Rosa murmured something and promptly backed away. His manners weren't good enough to make Percy turn around as he said goodbye.

Annabeth was quick to speak out. "Hi."

"Hi."

"I'm sorry, Percy." She leaned forward, her expression wavering between a million emotions, and she stopped a foot away from him.

He blinked. "Annabeth. No." He always thought he was tangled up in is own problems, wrongdoings. He never imagined an invisible field of her own wavering between them. _Is she also broken? _He found himself thinking fearfully, naively, almost with a pulse of hope.

She shook her head. "We can make our way back. To where we were." Her words barely penetrated the air.

He breathed out slowly. "But we've changed."

He couldn't believe he just contradicted the two women he was convinced were plotting to kill him in a row. He couldn't believe he was so certain about this.

Annabeth let out a startled laugh. She glanced up at the clouded sky for a moment and slipped him a slow, aching grin. "I miss you, Percy."

He realized this was exactly like that time when he admitted her liked her. "We can be something new."

Her head tilted like she was also remembering. "Okay." Whatever else she meant to say faded as she studied him again. Her glance grazed over his lips and he felt a suspended wave crash down deep inside. And then she was breathing again. "But we need to talk."

**Sorry this took so long. I procrastinated way too much because I thought this would be difficult to write and then spent a long time writing and editing. (By the way, the most important lesson I've probably learned about writing is that first drafts are supposed to suck, but it's important to get through them and then edit.)**

**Trivia: Citlali is a Native American name that means "star," Minseo is a Korean name (actually after a celeb I don't know), and Ladrillo means "brick." *smiles smugly* **

**By the way, I discovered a pair of kittens named Piper and Leo! They were rescued from a pipe and named by some schoolchildren I'd like to meet :). My first reaction was, I can have them I'm perfectly equipped to take care of baby kittens! But no one's going to buy that so…**

**Edit alert: Ch. 2 front desk guy, Ch. 19 subway scene**

**Review Replies:**

**Cardmaster11 (from Ch.1): Hi, I hope you've been/will be able to get through this far. That's really nice to hear, I'm working on being original and true to the story but not terribly OOC at the same time. Thanks for commenting!**

**Jayduck: Hi! Thanks for changing your name, that's really helpful of you. I'm just going to be nit-picky at this point, Leila's a pot addict, not meth. And I think I said at some point that she started using in high school and entered rehab in college. A lot of this is definitely not fact-checked, so I totally get that you're confused. In reality, she probably would have to be smoking day in and day out to damage her brain to that extent, and one I definitely did not portray very well, but the fact that marijuana can lower mental capacities kind of alarmed me so I decided to include it. Thanks for asking and yeah, I do enjoy writing this. **

**Mr. Gilborg: Hi, first off, no pressure to post a lot. The email alerts have cut off most of your reviews so far, and I still gained a lot from that one. Thank you for pointing that out, I didn't really take any time to consider what the place would look like and plunged into the "action," but that probably would've been nice. Hopefully, the location is easier to visualize now. To be honest, description used to be my big thing and I would give, like, three flowery paragraphs to every new place, but I guess that now I've moved on to not-quite-fairyland settings I feel a little more hesitant. I'll keep that in mind, though. I'm glad you liked the dynamic between the nurses and definitely being with a new crowd changes how Percy feels like he has to act. If I had another chapter, I would try to further explore how not having access to heroin can change him, but I've got each one planned out in detail so I can cap off around 30. Again, thanks for reviewing, and I hope you liked this one :). **

**Guest: Hi! Wow, you reviewed right before I was planning on updating. Thank you so much, this was kind of a lengthy chapter with some bumps, but I got through it! And yeah, I'm looking forward to that one-shot too! I'll have to do a ton of research first and make sure the plot looks different enough to be interesting, but I'll have the link sometime and I hope you enjoy that too ;). Thanks again!**


	24. Chapter 24

**My history teacher mentioned that **_**Oliver Twist **_**was sold chapter by chapter, which kind of warped the plot. And Marco Polo's writings could only be bought two pages at a time (printing wasn't invented yet) so the exaggeration flew to extreme heights. If I don't mention instant gratification or anything, the same principles still apply to me… I apologize for all the arduously long chapters you guys had to read beforehand. (Seriously, 8k for a single uneventful day? How is that possible?) Not promising this or anything because I seem to repel promises, but my future fic will probably be written at once or in large chunks. More on that later :). **

**Also, well, there was supposed to be a kiss last chapter, but it just didn't happen.**

**Enjoy!**

_Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth:_

Nothing seemed real to Percy.

He could've been dreaming; he couldn't feel that he was living through this moment.

The highway lights raced and burst against Annabeth's profile. The backseat of the Toyota was swathed in darkness, which continued creeping into their row against the pinpricks of the dashboard. His hands made ghostly white outlines on the seat of his pants, and the outwardly burnt orange glow crawled insistently into his retinas. He could hear Annabeth's breathing.

They'd only passed a few other cars in the last few miles. Annabeth reached out to fiddle with the radio and hazy 70s jazz sputtered out.

"Percy?"

His name was garbled, and he hardly recognized it as his. Was Annabeth's voice that delicate or was he imagining it? Percy turned his unseeing gaze from the dashboard. There was Annabeth in the flesh, painted with charcoal and ashes and the light trace of flames on the underside of her curls.

If this really was real, he wanted to throw himself out of the car in fear.

A harsh snap clicked through his conscience. Annabeth was staring back out at the road, but her fingers were poised to snap again. "Percy, are you listening?" Her luminous eyes left a trail of stardust as they jumped back to him.

The thin layer of irritation in her voice shook him awake. This wasn't a dream. He wasn't stuck at Sunny Mountain forever. "Yeah," he murmured.

She wet her lips. Percy glared at the doorhandle before he could think about anything. "Hey," she tried. Gently, with a tinge of exhaustion. Why was everything so sharp outside of Sunny Mountain? "You know I don't like silences."

Did he? He once knew her? It flickered "truth" in the core of all the memories he kept of her. "I don't really know what to say," he answered quietly.

Annabeth let her head droop on her shoulder for a moment. Unspoken words and his apparent attraction lingered after their speech. She spun away the jazz.

"I might be keeping you long," she realized. "Look, I can just drop you off—"

"No, it's fine. Harvey has an early bedtime, Chris is supposed to be making sure of that."

She dared another glance at him. Maybe there were some other things, like his old roommates he didn't quite as much, his insomnia that would just fall back like nothing had changed, or the possibility of Harvey sitting awake for him.

"Oh. Okay, well, I'll keep it quick. You must be tired."

Insomnia welled onto his tongue. It tasted like rain. "I can stay up," he whispered.

Annabeth didn't look at him again. Her head fell back against her headrest. "It came back?"

"It's here to stay," he blurted.

"I'm always here, if you want someone to talk to." She let her car cruise to a stop so she could turn to look at him. She looked older, more refined somehow, but the earnestness drew her features together in the same way.

"Yeah. I can make more cranes."

She let her lips twist into a smile. "Have you counted?"

Nurse Phuong did for him, actually. He dipped his head. "I'm really close to a thousand."

"That's great." She eased her foot back onto the pedal. She was about to say something else, but "Who Rule the World" by Beyoncé suddenly erupted from her phone.

She winced and pointed at it, lying in the cupholder. Percy sat there, uncomprehending, until he realized she wanted him to pick up. It was Thalia.

"It's a joke," Annabeth explained as his finger hovered over the green "accept" button. Her phone case had an owl (of course). "She hates pop but it fits her."

He pressed down on the button and then angled it on speaker towards Annabeth. The reception was crackling, Green Day was booming, and some people were giggling in the back.

"Beth." Thalia sounded a little stiff, and Annabeth also straightened at her voice.

"Yes, _Thalia_?"

Something crinkled around Thalia. The Green Day grew a little distant. "What's going on?"

"What?" Annabeth shifted defensively. Percy couldn't help it; his mind shot to Annabeth being held in Precinct 17 again, some worse crime.

Thalia heaved a sigh. Behind her, there was a shriek of, "Shoot! Was that a squirrel?" She cleared her throat. "I can hear the sound of your below-speed-limit driving and traffic.. Since when did you accept calls with your hands at four and nine?"

"First off, you're supposed to drive with your hands at two and ten o'clock on the wheel. And if you're camping with the other Hunters, shouldn't you at least talk with some regard to the law?" Annabeth answered tensely. Percy realized with increasing alarm that something was off between them.

"Beth. Why?" Thalia sounded like a cross between wheedling and stern.

Annabeth darted an irritated glance in the direction of Percy, though it seemed to be from their conversation and not for him.

But he couldn't take their fighting anymore. He moved closer to the mouthpiece. "Thalia, it's Percy."

She seemed to be muffling her groan somewhere. "Are you talking to a guy?" someone gasped in pretend shock. "Shut up, Fang," Thalia snapped back. "Oh," was all she said to him. "I figured Annabeth would be picking you up at some point."

Annabeth clenched her jaw. "Right."

Thalia shuffled around. "_Annabeth_, I was actually calling about him. No, don't say anything. It's not from me. I was picking up Santos' birthday cupcakes from Calypso, and Valdez was talking about his brother."

Percy felt the chill of recognition break down his spine. Annabeth arched a golden-lit eyebrow.

"I—Percy, I know a social worker."

Looking away was an instinctive reaction. He remembered the few he had. Maybe it was just one, his memory was a little blurry. How they easily dropped him off without entering the house, the sugared-down orange juice they handed him.

Slowly, he realized they were both waiting for an answer. "Um. Uh. Have you, uh, asked Leo?" He was going to say Harvey, because that really mattered, but couldn't bring himself to.

Annabeth moved her shoulders uncomfortably. He remembered Leo crowing about being her best patient—and he had been kicked in and out of a lot more and worse homes than Percy.

Thalia cleared her throat again. There were some footsteps, and Tso's murmured question. "No, I don't need water." She came back to them. "He didn't really say much. He asked you to mention it to Harvey."

"Well, it would be more responsible to ask something who worked with the industry before to give him a full overview…" Annabeth suggested carefully.

She was right, Percy just didn't want him to get lied to. He stared at the darkness of the space beneath the dashboard and answered, "Reyna."

"Oh. That's smart, Jackson."

Annabeth gave him a small smile. "But you should still mention it to Harvey."

"Yeah." He would see him in the morning anyway. "Actually, Thalia, how do you know them?"

There was a small uproar, and someone called over, "Lieutenant, do you want a s'more?" They were put on hold. Annabeth rolled her eyes. Thalia returned after a few seconds. "Sorry, I don't want to leave this insulated tent," she grumbled, but she was clearly enjoying it. "Her name's Nyssa, Prasad works with her for some of our victims' families. She works as a mechanic on the weekends, and she's a great person," her voice grew softer. "She always finds good homes."

Percy pressed his eyes shut. Nyssa was probably real. Just not when he was orphaned.

"Percy?" Annabeth breathed, almost fearfully.

He glanced back at her, and shook his head. "That's nice," he finally found the words to say back to Thalia.

"You can meet her first. With Harvey. If…he enters the system, she won't leave his side until trustworthy parents come along."

That still wouldn't make her family, like Percy was to him. He gave Thalia a curt, "Yeah, okay. I'll talk to him about it."

"Good. Beth, I'm texting you her number."

"If I wasn't driving, I'd have Googled her by now," she answered.

Thalia snorted. "If you find some interesting dirt, send it to me, okay?"

Percy narrowed his eyes at them (well, even though Thalia wasn't there). Annabeth let a smile grace her expression. "No, because I'm looking for her credentials."

A string of numbers popped up on the top of Annabeth's screen. Percy stared at it for a while, and they seemed to swim a little.

"Goodbye, Beth."

"Enjoy your s'mores, Thals."

She pointed to the cupholder again. The silence tiptoed back. Percy realized he could hear the soft noise of her wheels moving slowly over concrete. Annabeth found a classical music station that she actually enjoyed.

"Do you want to call her?" Annabeth ventured.

Percy pressed his cheek against the rain-condensed window and then decided against it. "I don't know. Maybe in the future."

"Yeah, I can help you arrange a meeting."

He replayed his medical documents coming in through text when he first entered Sunny Mountain. "No, I can do it."

To her credit, she didn't act surprised. "Okay, then. Text yourself her number." She stuck out her thumb for the password touch.

He precariously held her phone underneath her hand, and their palms grazed. His face felt like it was on fire. The front page of apps shrank into view. Her wallpaper was the Rose Room of the New York Public library, hooded green lamps lined up against the stretching bookshelves. Looking at it gave him a headache.

Her messages app was in the corner. He almost touched it. But it was just the crack-free screen and high resolution of Annabeth's phone that made him forget. Inside would be the very same page he saw where he admitted that he liked her, and where she replied. Which was something he hadn't checked yet.

Except, well, he was already holding her phone. Grimacing, he clicked into the app. He wasn't on the top, of course not, and he decided against scrolling through all the messages she got and just searched for himself.

There was a picture of him. He was bent over, his hair hanging over his eyes, holding a crane up to the light. A blue mug, half-filled with more blue coffee, was pushed from his elbow. It looked like she set up the shot with that much blue (his hoodie, his crane, the rack of mugs behind him) and took it with a professional camera.

He must've made a sound, because Annabeth's gaze fell on him again. "When was this?"

She grinned, slightly on edge. "I was just going through my texts, and I noticed I was missing a picture for you. I promise I wasn't trying to be creepy. But it's better because it's candid."

Percy decided not to answer. He didn't even have a picture of her (except for the grainy Wikipedia one he might've saved in a secret folder somewhere) and would have to get her back with a secret one in the future.

He tried to not take an audible breath and went into their texts.

There were his medical documents, all the spelling mistakes he made because he was so nervous about getting admitted into rehab, her texts from San Francisco. His next breath rattled his chest because he was trying so hard to suppress it.

Down at the bottom, he saw his last line of digital communication. _Annabeth, I like you. _

She had answered, after a minute, _Thank you. That means a lot to me. _A warm coal balled up in his throat. This was Annabeth. She was always genuine. She literally did not realize what he meant. The next messages were spaced by ten or more minutes.

_Percy, is everything fine?_

_How do I fix this? I'm so sorry. _

_You shut down your phone. Okay. I guess this will be locked in a time capsule. If only I could lock away the time we had together. Whenever you open it, I'll still be sorry. _

He left a finger on the screen so it wouldn't go black and stared out his window. The tears weren't coming, his body wasn't raging too visibly at losing its lifeblood, just his mind. It still took a moment to compose himself.

"Percy?" Annabeth ventured. She sounded like she forgot about the text. He wouldn't mind it that way.

He actually had to back away from their chat , resolutely ignoring everything else Thalia had sent Annabeth (from his slitted vision he could see a lot of all caps and memes), to copy Nyssa's number. His own device buzzed tiredly in his pocket after a few moments.

"It's done," he tried to say lightly, tilting her phone back into the cupholder.

Headlights of a shrouded Ford Focus seared them as it drove the other direction. Her presence seemed eminently blown-up next to him again, like the projection of her lecture in Jason's hotel room.

"It's happening?"

"I think so."

"I can't believe it." She didn't sound excited so much as whiplashed.

He rested his head on the shoulder of his seat. "Is-is it going to be okay?"

Her answer was what he thought it would be. "I don't know that, Percy."

They were saved from having to answer that when she pulled off the highway and onto a street of rowdy clubs. Ed Sheeran was blasting amid a mingle of rap music he couldn't identify.

"I wonder if they have any s'mores," Annabeth laughed.

"Probably not," Percy answered, peering out at boxes of chicken wing bones and endless beer bottles. The fading ghost of Grover in his head rose up to whisper-yell, "Recycle! Recycle!"

"Ah," Annabeth said softly as they skirted around the flashing Times Square and the last few streets to Half-Blood Hill. "Home sweet home."

That was probably number one on identifying a workaholic problem, but Percy decided not to comment. The parking spot on the closest length of curb must've been reserved for her, because she slid there again even though the rest of the spaces were wide-open.

She didn't pull keys from her sweater-dress pocket, though, as they stepped out. Percy felt a chill dip into his clothes. Annabeth went straight to the wide alley between her company and a closed hipster café.

"Where are you going?" he asked as he jogged to keep up. It was a feat that didn't tire him too much, to his surprise.

Annabeth grinned, turning to walk backwards, and he realized the alley led to more than a backstreet. Half-Blood Hill had a full-sized parking lot in the back, except a good chunk of it was reserved for a garden.

It was bordered and cut up with trails of pebbles, and it was an absolute jungle in the early spring. Shuttered flowerheads full of pollen jutted up around gnarly morning glory and cucumber vines, and stubby Japanese maples grew without organization in a sprightly grass field. Annabeth mentioned eating organic produce from here, but Percy couldn't imagine where she found anything.

She simply stalked ahead on the mostly plant-free dirt path, absently trailing her fingers through a tangle of lavender stalks. She stopped at the foot of a poplar tree, the only spot where the grass and weeds were manicured.

"This is Miranda's work of art. She likes to come here whenever her greenhouse gets quiet." Her voice was hushed, like there was another guest there.

He could see amidst a flurry of cornflowers a small iron-wrought chair, draped with a daisy-patterned apron that Annabeth would most definitely not wear. He stopped his scrutiny to come up next to Annabeth.

She squatted down and splayed her fingers in the grass. "This is where half of the ashes of my best friend and older brother lies."

Percy stiffened. One of the few precious licks of information he had about her was that she had an adopted brother, but she never mentioned her best friend. He thought that might've been Thalia. Definitely not someone buried a few yards from a room he'd been visiting every other day the past year.

"His name is Luke." Her voice wavered on the tense. "He wasn't my brother by blood, but by anything else you call your family by. That was the best of the relationships between us."

If that meant anything though, she didn't say what.

"Thalia has the other half. She knew him before me. She keeps it on herself, because it reminds her of what she's trying to do in this city." Annabeth rocked onto her heels and stared up at the cloudy sky. "But he got separated from us. The two of them had found a safe house, with others on the run. We were almost caught. But Thalia tried to give her life for us at a place called Half-Blood Hill, just outside the safe house. She fell into a coma."

Annabeth took a ragged breath. "I didn't know what to do. That-that was one of the first times in my short life. I don't think Luke did, either. He hated the safe house. One day, he just ran away, and got involved in underground crime." Her clear eyes suddenly found Percy's. "I don't know the extent."

Except she still buried his ashes outside her life's work. Was this some example of redemption? Rebuilding lives?

"Percy, he wasn't a bad person. He was ready to lay down his life for me every single day out there. He was the first one to show me affection, because Thalia is a hard nut to crack. No one has ever chosen to turn; they are pushed to. They are taught to. Which means I only helped push him."

Percy refocused his stare on her. "No—"

"He showed all the signs. I didn't know how to help, and that was missing on my part." She sounded so factual, listing this out. "That's why I tried to learn."

Percy swallowed his protests.

"The safe house was nice to me. A pedigreed professor who just wasn't accepted by other people lived there, and he taught me so much. He encouraged me to attend community college. I saw him shed a tear at the graduation ceremony, that crazy old man," she said without any malice. "He was so insistent I take architecture as a major, though. But it wasn't important to me, and I didn't have the tuition for an extra year, so I picked psychology. And then one thing led to another, and I was recommended to another school, and yeah.

"I couldn't help either of them. But this job has given me an opportunity to help so many others, and I'm unspeakably grateful for it.

"I bet he would've liked you," she said distantly. "Before." She ran a hand through her loosening ponytail. "But I've had a lot of alone time recently, and I've thought about this so much.

"I know Piper got you guys to watch my lecture. Well. I didn't think it was that interesting, but okay. You know what I said about cognitive dissonance? I consciously knew that psychology was not fit for me, that maybe I was being impulsive. If I looked hard enough, well, I would see that it didn't really suit me.

"I've been feeling guilty. This whole time. It's not a sincere motive that's bringing me to care and work harder. I've been feeling so guilty about his actions, and yeah, I should've paid attention. But I haven't been able to bring him back or change anything and I need to figure out some other reason for why I'm doing what I'm doing. Before I get defrauded." She laughed. Percy watched with a vague smile from being left out of a conversation he was confused by but also glad to be watching.

"Percy, can you forgive me for this?"

"What?"

"I haven't been doing this properly." She tucked her hands beneath her chin.

"Annabeth," he said with an incredulous pause, "you're the sincerest person I've ever met. There's nothing to forgive."

"That just makes this all the more worse," she murmured. She shook her head. "There's a lot more for me to apologize for."

He leaned back as she explained how Thalia woke up and discovered Luke was gone, and how painful it was to explain what happened. She didn't spend long at the safe house either once the police academy interviewed her. And how they met Luke a few times, and he was like a different person.

"I think it's a little early for me to be having a mid-life crisis," she said with a laugh. "I'm not even close to done. But should I stay here forever?"

_This is the moment where she leaves me_, Percy thought. But she didn't move or say anything. She just stared into the ground.

Slowly, he knelt to the ground and shrugged off his coat. "You look a little cold."

Annabeth turned, and her lips were lightly tinged purple. It wasn't a nice look on her. "No, thank you." She straightened of her own accord. "I'm sorry for keeping you outside for so long."

He gave her an exasperated smile.

"But I'm still not close to done," she said as they walked back down the alley. Her keys, with a Golden Gate Bridge keychain, jangled as one twisted in the front door. She blew out a breath in the dark lobby. The pine tree loomed before them, and the faint scent of expensive perfume and success still wafted inside. She bent down again to lift up a bundle of twigs, tied with a glittery purple ribbon courtesy of Lou Ellen. "There's a lot I've been messing up."

Almost like a second thought, she switched on the suspended cone lights for the floating staircase. Percy blinked, more from being in a permanent state of stunned than blinded. Little black beads on her dress were illuminated.

On the stairs, she raised an eyebrow at him and grinned. "I seem to remember you being a little slower," she teased, not breaking pace. "Didn't you begin to take an hour to get up to your apartment?"

"Haha," he answered dryly, skipping steps. That was a low moment in his nine-day withdrawal. She raced to her office door first and laughed just a little breathlessly as she pushed it open.

It looked well lived-in, though the decorations were still worthy of an interior design magazine. There were a few decomposable takeout boxes on the coffee table, rumples in the carpet, and a cutting board out onto the counter. He usually sucked at memory games, but he seemed to recall that the glass owl figurines had been removed from her table and lined up on a shelf.

"I'm really glad to see you doing better," she explained, beelining for her drinks table.

"Thanks," he responded, and at an impulse, joined her there. He unhooked a matte blue mug and a carved gunmetal one for the two of them.

She studied them, and then reached over to grab a packet of black tea leaves from her generous stack. Her arm grazed against his torso and she immediately retracted it. "Sorry," she muttered as he shut his eyes in a barely-hidden flinch.

"No, it's fine. Are we going to have any sugar with that?"

She swiped the sugar cube jar from his elbow. "I will, but not you. Dr. Asch Windley has been very consistent with sending me your reports."

He raised his eyebrows. "My cholesterol is not that bad."

Annabeth tipped the leaves into a kettle. "You can get one cube, then."

"What? I can't drink this."

"It's good for your sleep," she answered quietly, placing the kettle onto its heating pad.

He decided to not say anything. The overconcern was most definitely from his overdose. Annabeth went over to her hearth and struck a match over the pile of pine twigs, and a smoky smell lingered in the air. From the couch, she lifted two knobby and bedazzled blankets from a bed of yarn for them.

"I saw somewhere about donating ADHD and Alzheimer's blankets, and I'm waiting for the nearest hospital to get back to me. I was thinking we could help warm these up?"

He slowly grabbed his, because social workers or his foster parents have always handed him things to deal with his nervous energy. The knitting was silky smooth under his touch, and a sewn square of bells twittered when he shifted his grip. Annabeth easily swept hers around her shoulders, little bits jutting out all around her, and allowed herself a grin. "I hope the pediatric ward will be interested."

"Of course they would," he responded, settling into his chair. It wasn't really his, and had only been sat on by others for the past few months, but it squished and creaked comfortingly under his weight.

She toyed with the strands of braided yarn on the fringe. "And the thing is, once I entered this profession, I met so many great people." She lifted her chin slightly at him, and he felt the back of his neck warm. "I think I'd known for a long time that guilt was pushing me. It's not very stable. I was always scared something would also happen to everyone I worked with." Her eyes snapped onto his. "And I couldn't let that happen."

In the back of his mind, Percy saw her messily-packed suitcase yanked onto an airplane at midnight. Annabeth swiping Thalia's badge and searching for another precinct to command a search party. Her phone laying by her hand, as she sipped coffee after coffee, to spring at a call. And how many things had she canceled for him, if he just showed up unannounced?

"Annabeth—," he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I couldn't take care of myself."

"That has nothing to do with this." Her blanket shuddered with her breaths.

The kettle suddenly let out a yelp, and they both jumped slightly. She poured it into their mugs, mixing in oat milk for hers, and his one tiny cube made a splash of milky brown liquid. She stirred hers for a while and stared into it like the answers to life was in there.

"You don't have to protect me," he said softly. "I won't be such a mess anymore."

"No, I entered a job where people cannot control themselves, and there's nothing to blame. I've been talking to Amina, the Hunter's psychiatrist, and she finds it important to make sure there are safety measures in place. She's extremely generous with imposing suicide watches. Doctor Kayla, you've met her before, is on the top of her speed dial. But she's been teaching me to let go afterwards."

She found a place for her mug amid the organized chaos of papers and binders on her desk. Annabeth scurried to pile them back into a stack, file away a few loose-leaf sheets, and straightened her pens in a row. Percy tried to not to obviously stare after all those binders, but they must've been for her other patients. Kind of like Gwen's notebook.

"That's good," he answered softly. All the streetlamps and the splash of hearth flames left all but her profile dim, but she almost looked like a different person. She wasn't a playbook of smiles, always quick on her feet and radiating sunshine. Her eyes reflectively gazed off into the distance whenever nothing captured her attention, and her features were opener somehow.

"I hope so," she sighed. Her chair scraped back with a _urch _and she, without any warning, reached into the hearth.

Percy flinched. He grabbed his mug to douse out her hand, but Annabeth only touched the edge to lift out a charred scrap of paper. A few inked dashes were the only readable things, but when she blew on the ashes little smears scattered over the browned paper.

"Percy," she edged out, returning back to her chair as bells and beads smacked together on her blanket, "I remember one morning, I was being the worst hypocrite in the world to you." She dropped the sheet of paper on the table between them. "You'd just woken up here."

"I…it was right before the party, right?" He felt like he didn't want to hear any more. But he was also remembering a few things he couldn't put his finger on.

Annabeth smiled a little. "Yeah. I was convincing you to talk to Harvey, because lies are nests that eventually choked us."

Percy felt a stab of pain at the mention of Harvey. "Oh. I remember that, kind of."

"And the only reason I knew that so well is because," she theatrically propped up her head with one hand, "I've been lying to everyone too."

The piece of paper was pushed closer to him, and he carefully picked it up. He could barely make out the ink, smooth blue that was most definitely from an expensive fountain pen. "Is this for saving heat?"

A worried, niggling feeling crawled into his stomach. He remembered mentioning her habit to Grover, who said that paper burned way too quickly and it was easier to nab around five coats from the Salvation Army. But Grover didn't deal with paperwork like Annabeth, and who was the type to be donating to the Salvation Army, so he didn't listen.

"Not really. The pine gets trimmed every year anyway, so I have plenty of firewood. I was sketching." She looked away. "Buildings. There was this really nice art deco one in East Village. Sometimes I try to return, but I got really frustrated with myself."

She held onto his gaze, unwaveringly. He leaned in, griping his mug to extract warmth. "Why?"

"For chasing a dream, or maybe being in the wrong one. I don't know." Something about her suddenly seemed like a mirage. One blink and the soft curve of her cheek, the ever-present glitter in her eyes, even the calm, carefully plotted words faded.

There was so much more behind this.

Annabeth took a fistful of her blanket and entangled her fingers in some woven loops. "I've just never dared to mention anything I struggled with to you, because my pride always got in the way. I've never shown you real vulnerability."

Percy shook his head. "Annabeth, what happened?"

She moved the other end of the blanket around her neck, like a shawl and gazed off for a moment. "We're not here to talk about me. I'm still okay. This is the last thing I can apologize for, because I realized I couldn't let you disappear from my life and still believe in all the lies I've said."

_But you need to disappear from my life before I break you further. _"I've never even asked you that before."

"No, I wanted to be good enough. Removed enough to not really care, until I wouldn't let anyone care." She laid out her hands on the table with another slow breath. "But of course I cared. That wasn't something I had any control over. And I didn't ask your permission for this, but I donated to Sunny Mountain."

"What?" he felt his ocean dive to the ancient depths of his consciousness.

She looked away. "They're a non-profit, they run because of funds. Thalia told me enough about the facilities. And most of the counselors, emotional support managers, and nurses don't have professional degrees, because that's difficult to afford. I wanted to help everyone there get the help they ended."

Everything spun through a different lens. The health foods the cafeteria kept serving. The way the nurses seemed gentler and Drew had a new gauntlet of counseling ideas under her belt. The "emotional support managers" must've been their group leaders, and he was wondering why Gwen really volunteered to deliver his letter. And the brand-new spangled lobby.

"You didn't have to do that, Annabeth."

She swallowed. "We can put this behind us if I'm wrong, but have you always thought I pity you? I don't. I never have, Percy."

His breaths began rushing in and out, because he was well aware of what he wanted to say. _I don't deserve any of this. _In the faraway distance, the crackling died out. Neither of them glanced towards the hearth."Annabeth, everyone I've cared for got hurt. Whenever I insist on protecting or helping them. When you're…," he swallowed an onslaught of bitterness, "changing for the better," _and being brave, _"I can't. Let me be honest with you. Nothing good lasts around me."

Something acidic was filling his throat when he said, "I think I should return to Sunny Mountain. There are some older people there, and I don't know, there's a new program for younger or middle-aged people to earn money. I'll still make it to Piper and Jason's wedding." His mouth felt burnt, corroded after choking that out, after seeing Annabeth and the outside world for a few hours, but there wasn't anything else for him to say.

"That's not true. They've given you everything there." Her eyes blazed. "And you can never ruin me, Percy, because I am what I am with my own will."

Every single day in rehab, he could see something in the corner of his eye, he just turned away from it. He turned away to keep talking about Annabeth, to get pissed at everyone, but it was still there. It was his mother fading from the world. "We don't have any choices. I've determined the fates of too many people. Maybe it was okay inside, because I didn't have to constantly make a choice to quit. It's not something I can do by myself. All I've had to do is care about someone, and watch everything fall apart. I can't rise above because this is who I am."

"I need you to hear how wrong that sounds."

He settled on the back of his chair. His months of "positive thinking" training lightly resisted the thought, but it felt so good admitting that. Like an empty stomach settling, his eyelids slipping closed after a long day.

"Percy." Annabeth's voice rang out harshly. "That is not who you are. How many times should I tell you that?"

He gazed back across at her. She, the wealthy CEO, wrapped in a charity blanket, her gray eyes trained on him, ready to repeat a sentence until it became a nonsensical string of words so a lie could become truth. His crush on her was hopeless.

"Then maybe people just get hurt. While I've tried to do something for them because I don't stop caring about people that don't need me in their lives."

He felt the millionth of the topics he avoided in Sunny Mountain sharpen into color in his mind. The day he touched Bianca's shoulder, answering distractedly that she could stay with him for the evening. He remembered now Bianca snorting, darting out from under his hand like it was plagued. She despised being belittled, and Percy normally knew better to say something like that. But his high was fading away and he pretty much didn't think straight during those days.

"There's a possibility," Annabeth acknowledged. "That will happen again."

He wrapped both hands around his lukewarm mug and stared back at him. The chill was crawling into him.

"But it's not the truth."

"I can't just learn from my mistakes, Annabeth!"

He still remembered how he was drowning, how everything faded and cut into him and gave into an abstract reality when he woke up on the floor of the master bedroom and saw that his mom wasn't there.

_I shouldn't have meddled I was trying to just talking about her and he hit me and she said to not come into their room 'live your life for yourself Percy' and they were only just yelling_

He straightened in his chair. She was sitting there quietly, like she was waiting for something. "I once read in a waiting room pamphlet that using messes with your mental abilities. That has to do with memory, doesn't it?" Annabeth dipped her chin in a nod. "My first social worker was lying, and I believed her. My stepdad never touched my mom. He knew better than that. That's how she never found out, because she never went through the same thing. When I thought it was happening to her too I asked him to stop." He felt himself trembling somewhere. "And then he raised his hand to her."

"What?" Annabeth's jaw was rigid. "Why did your social worker lie to you? They didn't investigate?"

"I don't know. Maybe they thought it was better to let me believe what I believed. And I would be too involved."

"What will happen if you keep expecting that to happen again?"

He cocked his head. There were some things he didn't want to explain to her. "So you're agreeing with me?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Play along."

_Maybe you'll be safe from me. _"Maybe I'll learn to not try and help others when someone else actually could."

"You mean not care about anyone?"

_That would be nice. _Not that he could even imagine it. "I'd rather be in the wrong then hurt another person."

"Okay. What about the people you like right now?" Her expression flashed with the text he sent her.

"Get over me," he muttered under his breath.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that."

Percy folded his hands so she wouldn't see them shaking. "I know your mental abilities are better than mine, but you could always forget me."

"I can't."

He blinked, the moonlight reflecting against his features suddenly blinding. "What?"

She tilted her head, like _You heard me. _Her blanket was pulled into her lap. "Unless I'm struck with amnesia or Alzheimer's, that's not happening."

He refused to let his brain process this. He immediately moved on. "I have to go back and face these people. Harvey doesn't want to be adopted. I don't know what I'm doing."

Her gaze, smooth like glass, or pebbles, held his carefully. "You're allowed to be scared."

Percy clenched the blanket in his fists. She probably wouldn't give away that one because it was so wrinkled. "What does it change?"

"You tell me." Something about her seemed to relax.

He stared up at the uneven paint job on the corners of her ceiling. Something surfaced from his group meetings with Gwen. "I have to face it head-on?"

A soft smile tugged at her lips. "Yeah, I think that's it."

She went back to tuck in more pine branches, and they got into his experiences at Sunny Mountain. But eventually all of the branches smoldered to charred pieces of cinder. Annabeth had swallowed one or two yawns, so Percy suggested they head back to their homes while it was just after midnight. She poured the dredges of their tea into a thermos to make boba in the future, refolded their blankets into a stacked crate, and made him wear an extra scarf from the back of her chair.

"Can I drive you home?"

He imagined sitting a few feet away from her again, how the light spun differently around her after only a few hours. But also how incredulous he still was, and how her reply to his text would still be what it is.

"I'm good with the subway."

"Percy. We live close by." She waited behind Half-Blood Hill's front door, expecting an explanation.

The streetlights shimmered on a chain beneath the collar of her dress. The main counter's rough-hewn edges glinted. A car's headlights lashed down their street in a turn.

"Okay."

-line break-

"You could always move closer to the building. Shouldn't that save gas?"

"Percy, I can't afford anything there."

He was pretty sure she could. "I can't believe you donated to Sunny Mountain."

She glanced out his window. "This is your place, right? Come on, I know Fitzy and the gang are waiting for me."

He imagined her getting bombarded by her slew of pets as she unlocked the door. "Say hi to them for me."

The air stung slightly outside the Toyota, and Annabeth grinned at him. He heard the car pull away only after he managed to wrestle the door of his building open.

He moved up the stairs with a lot more energy than the last few times he'd been on it, but he took his time to study the graffiti, look out for cracks in the steps, and back away from all the smashed beer bottles. Finally, at his door, he pushed away the instinct to knock and fished his key out from the depths of his junk-filled pockets. The rest of the locks unclicked without Harvey's help.

Duke, who was sprawled across the foyer, startled awake with a grunt and unceremoniously rolled over when he saw him. Percy carefully stepped over him and passed Harvey's cot in the hallway.

He was burrowed in an actual comforter, and his protruding ankle revealed Little Einstein pajamas. Percy took a moment to recognize the tuff of smooth, tamed curls and a well-loved denim backpack resting against the wall. The light brown comforter dipped up and down over Harvey's chest.

Percy forced himself to step away. He could see an opened, untouched bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter and a laptop on Chris' mattress, though the actual person was mostly obscured by blankets and the living room wall.

He left dusty tracks across the floor on his way to his tiny alcove. It seemed dark and lifeless, and the blood blazed in his ears when he spotted that slightly loose brick. Someone had washed and folded his blanket.

Percy dropped his bag softly in the corner, stripped down to a set of long underwear from Sunny Mountain, and wormed into his cot.

The hours ate away at him. He kept seeing Annabeth sitting across from him, listening, leading on the trail of their conversation. Her smile was too good for the world.

He thought he heard sirens ringing away in the distance, and he felt his heart automatically skip a beat. He hoped Thalia and Annabeth would get over it soon, because they clearly cared about each other so much.

But even if there were the "Hunters" and social workers like how Thalia described Nyssa, he didn't feel any more reassured about sirens getting closer to him. Them in this apartment.

From his little alcove, he couldn't see anyone. He could only feel the cold blare of the streetlights and the moon diluted through the filmy windows. The cold, unforgiving traffic at ungodly hours.

Was anything worth a try?

He wanted badly to judge Nyssa before meeting her. She was in an often irresponsible, law-choked profession, at least evidenced in his life, and what could she do for Harvey?

But Thalia clearly despised him and stirred up some unwelcome feelings with Annabeth, but she still brought this up. And Percy trusted Thalia's word because she was Annabeth's best friend.

_I guess we'll never really know until we take a step forward. _

Harvey thought learning at school and being a normal kid was worth it. Him leaving this dank apartment and a full-time job of harassed bartender was worth it to Percy. Even Leo agreed to discuss this with Harvey last time.

His exhales shuddered in and out in the icy air. Percy rolled onto his back and closed his eyes to dispel the twisting, knotting strings in his stomach. He felt short of breath.

_What am I even doing?_

He awkwardly brought his hands up and folded them together. They felt clammy and unnatural on his chest, like he was a corpse. He quickly laid them back by his sides.

"Harvey needs to be okay. Make him okay," he whispered wordlessly. It was definitely not a prayer, because he had no idea who or what he was talking to and what exactly he was doing.

But there was nothing much better to do.

**Because I've been forced to do too much literary analysis in school, I decided to do it upon my own writing. I realized the "fact" from two chapters ago that mentioned a "gold cage" symbolizes Sunny Mountain being a cage, obviously, but also foreshadows Annabeth's donation. (Also, the kittens Piper and Leo are at a foster family now. Hopefully they'll be adopted soon.)**

**So, that was the briefest brush into philosophy or maybe religion, but if you ever wondered about that, is a great source. And I'm also always open to debates or questions too!**

**And thanks to AGirlHasNoName20 for answering all my random questions, and of course my beta TotallyNerdy for being always so helpful.**

**Review replies: **

**MrGilborg: I'm really, really excited to see what you think about this one. It's been a huge turning point for Annabeth (though I suppose none of the changes have fallen into place yet) and a good step onto the climax. But seriously, you liked that chapter best? Well, I guess blowing 12k on it was worth it :). I was pretty worried about the pacing, first that it would be too fast and then too slow, but I guess the floating-detached-from-time kind of thing worked? Anyway, your assumptions are too good for me, I'm usually making to-do lists after reading your reviews. Either that or I've vaguely thought about things. Her perspective in the last chapter has been kind of uneventful, externally at least. There will probably be more uncovered. Thanks for reviewing. **

**Guest (from Ch. 1 and Ch. 22): Hey! I'm really glad you're enjoying this. I don't usually get a follow-up in reviews, so that was nice. Uh, I hope your bingeing is not disrupting anything in your regular life, and that you don't get too attached (I'm, like, actually absorbed in this), but hopefully you'll like what comes next? Thanks for commenting. **

**BethnPercy: Okay, before I say anything else, I seem to remember you from a long time ago and back then I was thinking that our pen names are basically the same. Well, I intended to give myself a name that involved "Percy and Annabeth" and their fatal flaws sounded nice together :). Anyway, it's nice to here that you didn't procrastinate anything, because this is a pretty long story to binge. And thank you so so much for all your nice words. I honestly don't think I'm as good as you say I am, but I still appreciate it. And about publishing, well, I know everyone's super OOC but I wrote this as fanfiction and I shouldn't label as anything else. There are a lot of elements, no spoilers though, that distinctly belong to Rick Riordan. However, if you do know any sites for publishing works of creative writing, that would be super helpful! Thanks again, and hopefully the wait wasn't too long?**

**JayDuck: Thank you for saying that! It's really nice to hear. I plan on getting to the oneshot soon, I just have to, um, develop a plot. I will probably get it out the penultimate or last week of October, but the timing's kind of a crunch. I'm glad you're looking forward to it though!**


End file.
